If you remember Dust to Deceit from a year and a half ago here at Serebii, then you'll be surprised to know how much it has changed in plot. Read for yourselves. Dust to Deceit is rated PG-13, just to be on the safe side. Be warned, there are themes of sexuality, including homosexuality and bisexuality, (though mostly of the female variation,) but they do not detract from the story. If anything, they add quite a few important themes and plots, but I'd just be spoiling too much if I told you all of it.

I am pleased to bring you a trainer fic unlike any other Vengeance, Cults, and Demons are only the beginning of the originality that is Dust to Deceit. There are aspects of space travel, not so genetic sciences, and lots and lots of detail. Where Pokemon have chances to have first person perspectives, and legendaries have their own personalities. Beware the gratuitous existence of Lugia and Moltres. Anyway, on we go

Dust to Deceit Notification List - Do you like Dust to Deceit? Do you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or interlude and want to be there asap to read it. Well, here's your chance Just let me know by either replying here, or PMing me if you're shy or something (though you're better off sending a repky here, seriously,) and I will send you a Private Message, written by yours truly

Who's on the List:
Nintyweb
blackemerald
Pikachuu
Sike Saner

Thus, slowly but surely, I am smiling on the inside. More and more readers are making their way here, and I cannot help but smile.

Intro... this is to get all you newcomers interested and put you on the edge of your seat and the edge of reality in Dust to Deceit's most twisted and bare nature.

It rained in red. A torrent of crimson droplets fell from greying orange sky, as clouds of a dark, sickly red did little to block out the night sky above, meaning that this rain, was anything but natural. The droplets were warm, and sticky, bathing the ground in warm, fresh hemoglobin. Even the stars looked bleak, and a bright, sickly green as well.

The grass was dead, dried up, and crinkly. It was as hard as iron, but frail enough to disintegrate into powder at a simple touch. As all this happened, Phillip Molson gasped in horror. He could hardly believe that this... this Armageddon, was a reality. As he glanced about the dying red soaked earth, a sinister laughter caught his ear, and from what he could see, it looked as though there were five laughing faces, floating in midair.

Those faces, as strange as they were, terrified the boy, though he knew nothing about any of them. At that, one of the faces approached him, a grin upon its frightening face. “The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” it said. It almost sounded monotonous yet whispery, as though it were being chanted.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” another one said as it floated towards him from the sky above. The emptiness of their facial forms were dead and void of any appearance whatsoever. There were no eyes, or mouths, just thin faces shrouded in a mysterious shadow.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

This time, at the loud outburst of the five monotonous, shadowed faces, the ground began to shake, and the sky suddenly darkened. The reason for this darkness was scary in its obviousness. In the sky was a giant sphere of cratered grey and white... and it was drawing closer and closer to the ground.

This, Phil concluded quickly, was the moon, pulling closer and closer every second, the ground beneath him beginning to crack, as though the entire planet were being wracked by seismic doom, and with the moon hurtling to the planet like a giant meteorite, the idea wasn’t too unfathomable.

The gravitational pressure was becoming to much. Phil could not hold his ground any longer as he suddenly felt so heavy, he landed face first in the grass, shattering the delicate, dry blades beneath him to a powdery nothingness He was drenched in red blood, and the scary thing was, some of it was coming from his hand.

As he attempted to reach up, his blood soaked hand trembled violently, as he felt the gravitational pressure of the moon rip away at him. He couldn’t even muster a scream under this pressure, not as though anyone would hear him. Again, as he lay on the dead, bloodied grass, his head managed to lift itself upwards in fear as he saw the five shadowy faces. Their emptiness terrified him more than the Earth’s impending doom.

In an instant, Phil felt himself being ripped from his dream state as he was violently rippeds back to the world of the awake. The vision of raining blood haunted his eyes, as the sight of the moon so close to impact terrified him greatly.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

The voices repeated it one more time, as he began to stir. The funny, yet at the same time horrifying thing was, he could have sworn he heard the shrill, faint whisper of the end of the chant even as he was no longer haunted by sleep.

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 3
Chapter 12: In Which We Begin... Again (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=2323186&postcount=42)
Chapter 13: A Series of Misfortunate Suspense (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=2343160&postcount=47)
Chapter 14: Sewer and Later
(http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=2380836&postcount=55)

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 4a
Chapter 15: A Lavender Hair Experience (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=2458849&postcount=66)

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 7
Interlude 7: Burns of Steel (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=5308224&postcount=124)
Chapter 23: Bugger Off With His Head (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=6289154&postcount=133)
Chapter 24: Mommy Drearest (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showpost.php?p=7363823&postcount=138)

Now... on with the show. Don't forget to submit reviews, folks

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 1: Food for Hate

“Goddamn it!” snarled a voice of rage and anger. The fury seethed in every word as they left the lips of the boy who enunciated them. “What possessed you to do such a thing?” he cried again as he stamped his foot for the ninth time in two minutes towards the warm grass below him, leaving little noise in his temper tantrum

Phillip Molson was filled with rage. A scowl marred his otherwise decent looking face. Wavy brown hair streaked down towards the back of his neck, and his green eyes deepened to a dark and angered shade. By his foot stood a short and confused blue creature.

Crocodilian in shape, this beast stood its ground bravely upon two legs, and had a frown currently sweep across its long snout. Its back, which covered in small red spines, stood on edge in fear. It tapped bravely upon the leg of the boy before him, fearful of knowing there would be consequences.

It took but not even a split of a split second to get the response as the boy spun around and continued to question angrily. “Why did you kill her?” he asked in utter loathing as he glared down the creature during the calm before the scorn. “Why?” he repeated, emphasizing heavily upon the first word, as if to leave a brutal truth be known. He lifted the creature by the nape of the neck with a forced and tight grasp. “You’re worthless to me...” he continued as he proceeded to toss it to the ground.

The pain the small crocodilian beast felt was indeed harsh, but it wouldn’t dare fight back. After all, it knew the cause of the boy’s anger, and thus felt guilty.

Phillip’s anger was indeed understandable to a point. It all started three days ago. He found his sister… dead. Where was this all? It was at a cave of many of these blue, reptilian beasts. His eyes caught their glances, and tears of anger began to well in the boy’s eyes. The sight was simply too much He could not bear to watch them feast upon his younger sister’s remains, which is no doubt what they’d intend to do, or so he believed.

It was saddening news and a river of tears flowed at the funeral that was held back in town the next day. To make matters worse, new trainers would be able to receive starting Pokemon in two days, and Phil’s sister was to be a new trainer. Though his father suggested against it, he sighed and replied, “Why not… it may take my mind off of it. Maybe I can live her dream for her. Not like I have any dreams of my own.” It was a reasonable logic. You can never live your dreams if you were dead. In his mind though, he knew he needed a change in his life, and this would be the perfect excuse.

Pokemon Journeys, as they were called, were perhaps one of the biggest mysteries the world would ever have to deal with. People, often children, would embark into the unknown with all but themselves, the clothes on their back, and perhaps a small amount of money. Of course, they’d also have creatures known as Pokemon, which were the person’s weapon of defense, as they traveled country in search of glory, excitement and most of all, they were in search of themselves. It was said to be a truly rewarding experience, yet one that could lead to total shame as well... if not reserved for those with a lack of concern for, or an immunity to death. Sara Molson, apparently, wasn’t as immune to death as the child could have hoped to have been.

The day came fast enough however, and trainers went to take their choices. There were three choices in stock for trainers that day. There was the bluish-green quadruped, Bulbasaur. The tinted green, leafy seed upon its back seemed to indicate some verdant power was hiding within. Perhaps a beautiful flower was waiting on the inside, but Phillip had no idea.

Next to it, an orange, baby chicken stood with beady black eyes and a lithe form, shaped like the flame of a lit candle wafting calmly in the wind. Its wings, stubbly and as hidden from reality as they were, were too small to enable this creature the gravity defying power of flight. It was no doubt to the grumpy boy that this was a frying chicken. It looked weak and innocent, but then again, it looked much better than option three.

The last option was… Totodile. It was the accursed reptilian species of sister murderer Phil would be damned if his hands were forced to touch the forsaken murderer, unless he were to be ringing its neck.

He pulled out of the possibility of a staring contest as quickly as possible. The more he looked, the more he felt inclined to ring his hands around its dastardly neck, ruining his likely chance of pursuing his sister’s dream. Phil didn’t care though. Gator genocide seemed to be the order of the day, and like the revenge that it was, it was a dish best served at absolute zero tolerance.

With a shrug, he decided that he may as well see who else was here with him. The first person his eyes came across seemed to be female, and one with a certain familiarity at that. With her rather pale complexion, she looked about twelve years of age. Her long, lithe green hair cascaded down the back of her neck like an endless field of grass. At the bridge of her small nose were deep pools of mud brown for eyes. For attire was a simple red t-shirt that hid not her slowly growing feminine body, and below, she seemed to wear a knee length skirt. It all appeared itself in a rather short package that vaguely past five feet in height, though she was sitting down, so it was hard to tell.

Yes… she was very familiar. It was Gina Meshing, a friend of his departed sister. Though he himself had seen her a few times, he had only once seen the girl actually with his sister. That however, was a few years back. Now however, he’d almost be damned, but he had to admit, she looked rather attractive, or would be in due time. She was quite appealing in his eyes, perhaps enough to one day be worth a good roll for a little fun and stress relief.

He had once heard, from his sister a few years back that some of her friends liked him. Why anyone would like a slightly overweight, introverted loner was beyond his comprehension. Besides, what the heck should nine or ten year old girls be doing by falling in love anyway? They should just be thinking of the fun the human body could have, for that was one of the few pridings of not only Kertonmel, but all of Mongolia, which happened the country that Kertonmel was situated in.

As Gina noticed his stare, she smiled, turning away quickly, and Phil turned his attention to the second human present. The other person to be there today looked quiet. His dark blue eyes seemed to stare with a most unfocused concentration of the absoluteness of nothing. To further the strangeness of his appearance, his skin was dark toned. In layman’s terms, he was a negro. As far as he knew, few dark skinned people ever had blue eyes, or anything other than brown at all. Regardless, he was very awkward, and probably someone who’d best be left alone for the entirety of his life.

A sigh escaped Phillip’s lips as he awaited the fate that was to come. ‘Well, its either the Bulbasaur or Torchic for me, it is.’ The choice between them however, felt tough to make, but thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Wilbur Hailar Brenetmos walked into the room.

“Ah... you’re all here.” he smiled. This was a man of intrigue, for a fair amount of Kertonmel’s Pokemon research was dealt with by this very man. Though said to be in his fifties, one could say he were thirty-five, if he simply dyed the whitening spots on his black, curled hair. His mustache was a thick black too, though whitening and age has also given it a grayness about it. His green eyes blinked as he stared over the three youngster who would be receiving starting Pokemon today.

He smiled as he looked the three trainers over. Youth like theirs was a blessing. It was a time of joy, pleasure, and fun... and Brenetmos always regretted how he wasted his time. “I take it I know why you are all here.” he grinned, as all three youths nodded, even the one who seemed to stare into space. It was as though that boy’s mind was one tracked, and nothing else even existed at all. “Ah, Gina. Good to see you.” he smiled to the girl, giving her a firm handshake.

“Hi.” she smiled. Her voice seemed calm as if she knew him well.

“And you I presume are Mitchell Parson.” Wilbur smiled, as he turned to face the Negro in question. smiled, “It is good to meet you.” he paused “Uh, hello?” he repeated again, vying for the boy’s attention.

The boy stared up at the man and nodded, “Eh? Oh, yea, hi.” he spoke quickly, and in rather reclusive manner, as though he thought less is more, and people were meant to be avoided.

He finally turned his attention to the boy. “Ah, Phillip Molson. I heard the bad news.” he said with a frown. “Sara was truly a good person, and will be missed.” he chuckled, for half a second, before snapping back to reality. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Eh,” Phillip said, falsely enthusiastic. “Don’t worry yourself with it. Just stop talking!” He demanded in a not so friendly tone.

The professorial man simply let it drop, for it was no use bringing up more sad endings on a day of new beginnings. “Well, since your choice to take this up was recent, I’m afraid that you’ll have to go last.” he said.

With a shrug for a response, the professor continued. “Well then,” he smiled as he went on to explanations of sorts. Descriptions about each Pokemon were brief and hardly enlightening. All the while the odd, and zoned out Mitchell seemed to be picking at his fingernails. Especially interesting were the positive things he had to say about Totodile. Well, it was interesting in a what the hell is this guy thinking sort of way.

“Yea, wonderful choice I love murder cases ” blurted Phil in sheer spite, as metaphoric venom spewed from each and ever lingering syllable. This of course, caught him the stares of all three people in the room. He himself had been shocked by the fact that he had dared to interrupt, and a slight flustering discomfort formed in a deep red shade upon his face and cheeks. “Oops... uh, never mind.”

The science man pushed back some sad truths he knew were true and proceeded. “Gina, you’re up first.”

The two people’s turns seemed to come and go, with Gina choosing Bulbasaur, that weird Negro taking the Torchic. This of course, did not settle well with the angst-filled teen. In fact, he downright hated the thought.

“Well, Phil, it seems that, um... elimination, has made your selection easier.” the professor smiled. He stood up and brought towards the boy a blue colored Pokemon. “Congratulations to you all!” the professor smiled.

Phil however, nearly snapped. His mind’s eye saw his sisters dream dissolve as though it were cotton candy in a pool of water, shattering like a great vase of very high value. He had failed his dearly departed sibling. He could not fulfill her dream with the use of a murderer.

Act

13th October 2005, 12:09 AM

I figured I'd read this. Just to get myself on the ins when it gets like 50 bajillion replies because you're on of the 'authors', ya know?

Yeah -.-...

Anyway...

Hatred is a feeling of regret, a feeling of fear, and chaos, all released, usually violently, in a package of pure rage. It spares nobody. Everyone has something that makes them tick like a time bomb of anger. Nobody can escape this feeling... nobody!

I know this wasn't the intent, but I started giggling here... This is so, so forced. I feel like you're yelling at me, "Nobody, alright? DAMMIT, NOBODY!!!one1" It's very strange, and it's not working for effect for me.

fourteen year old

Should be hyphenated.

the real murder was not a man.

Do you mean murderer?

I'm not getting why, especially at fourteen, he has to 'take her place'. That's def not canon, so I'd explore it a litle.

Phillip knew Brenetmos, or rather, he knew of him. His younger sister, rest her soul, was well acquainted with him. She had visited his lab often, and had a great curiosity. It was a thirst that needed to be quenched. It was only natural that on this day, this day of supposedly new beginnings, that Sara Molson would be one of three youngsters to go out into the world with a pokemon and explore the country of Kithiox, and partake in a grand, supposedly thrilling quest.

This paragraph is weird. You sound like you're going to go into a monolog about Professor Jace, but then say that Sara was a curios girl, and then switch to present tense with her leaving. I'm having a WTF moment, if you don't mind.

This may be just me being very, very tired, but Phil isn't getting my sympathy here for some reason. I think the tone here may be poor, but usually I'm easy to sway emotionally and it's just not happening. If anything, it's a little annoying. Shouldn't he be, you know, mourning, as opposed to leaving on a journey if he's really that upset?

Suffice to say, Phil was one who rarely enjoyed a euphoria, and this was no exception, with three people staring right at him.

This sentence sounds little purple, like you threw big words in there to sound pretty. The syntax is a little weird, and in the end I don't really know what you mean.

The next person he noticed was far younger than Brenetmos. Heck, she was a bit younger than him.

Well, this isn't that bad. The plot, though a good idea underneath it all, is a little flawed. The prose is pretty good, not great or excellent, but good. Phil annoys me a lot and seems awfully unrealistic, almost like a dramatic soap opera stereotype of what he's supposed to be.

The chapter was sort of inconclusive and there wasn't anything too extravagant about it, so um... good luck with it.

Dilasc

14th October 2005, 6:25 PM

Act: You're absolutely right. It was pure rubbish, that's why I've decided to just go with the original (that and I found the program that the original was written in, meaning I could actually open the old files and rework them.)

As such, until otherwise noted, the original is back. Huzzah people!

Dilasc

15th October 2005, 5:43 AM

I decided to add a new chapter here. An interlude of sorts, it introduces a somewhat cultish faction in the world that this occurs. Allow me to introduce the Orbital Occult, who are fanatical space seekers in a pokemon world.

Interlude 1: A Copernican Complex

Dressed in a hooded green robe, a man stood by an altar in the middle of a dimly lit room. The source of this light was a holographic projection of the solar system, with planets, asteroids, and satellites of scaled, yet accurate sizes, with the earth the size of a fist, and the sun as large as a door. White mist swirled about this man as a look of deep meditative concentration filled his eyes, and protected his mind from any disturbances.

All in all, this was a common practice for a member of the Orbital Occult. Considered a shunned religion of sorts, due to its strange pathos and even more peculiar ethos, it is considered on par with the like of satanic cults. Rather than relying on an all knowing deity, or leaving their fate in the hands of mythical beasts, the Occult has followed a path far greater, far larger than the simplicities of Earth.

The power of the Occult came from the sun, lunar satellites, and the planets. All in their most brutal, and scientific truths. As such, Venus is no land of love, for the harnessed power from Venus is that of the greenhouse and the noxious cloud. For Neptune, there is no water. For Neptune, the power of immense, speedy wind was the calling.

Most members and followers feel a need for answers, of the universe, life, themselves, and a greater purpose far beyond the control of a monotheistic deity, and definitely beyond the power of actual Pokemon themselves. What better power than some of the largest entities in the known universe.

The man looked upwards, gazing directly into the holographic sun that was straight above him. He raised his hands, and with clenching and unclenching of his fists, he began to speak rites of solar summoning. Calling upon the Great Orbital Defensive, the only GOD the Occult truly had to worship.

“Great nuclear reactor in the sky,” he began, “bringer of daylight, heat, life, and skin cancer!” He took a pause as his left hand touched the hologram, making it losing its holographic intangibility, causing it to be solid and whole. “Ultraviolet, and Infrared combine! I beseech the Sun!”

As he spoke the words, the sun disappeared from the holographic placement, causing the room to dim slightly, before it appeared, smaller, but still just as bright, rotating around the man’s hooded head. The wrinkles of his face could be seen, as could his fading hair, that was just far too yellow to be considered blonde, his eyes empty of all but their whiteness, and a few red lines as he sat in trance and deep concentration.

The mist at his feet calmed, as the man’s breathing picked up for a few seconds to catch a pause. Then, a few seconds later, he resumed, “Next I seek our sister planet,” the man yelled to the empty air, “I call upon the volcanic bed, and noxious swirl of our closest neighbor!” His hand reached out and grasped the holographic image of a swirling brown, almost the exact same size as the Earthly hologram. “Morning Star, Evening Star, lend me the essence of Venus!”

With that, the Venus hologram disappeared, and without any noticeable dimming, joined the sun in revolving his head at a shrunken size, though far less to scale compared to the Sun.

“Now!” he yelled, not taking a breather, “I seek the great gas giant!” he yelled, “Keeper of the red, and stormy trademark, thrice our planetary size!” his hands reached up for a very colorful hologram that seemed as big as a large beach ball. Save for a single red spot at the bottom edge, which spun every so often, the planet was a spectacle of peach, orange, pink and white. Around it “I summon the keeper of the Galileans, the tumultuous sulfur, the watery core, and the two giants!” At this, smaller spheres became visible around the colorful sphere. The one closest to the ball of red was the most colorful of all. It was mixed with yellows, and reds, and whites, and was perhaps no bigger than a pinky. Slightly further away were three more spheres, their color was a simple dark brown. “Puller of asteroids, I desire Jupiter and it’s Jovian satellites! Io, Ganymede, Europa, Callisto.”

At this, the giant beach ball and its four satellites swiftly disappeared, and began to revolve around his head, of course, at a much smaller size, the four Galilean satellites revolving around the small Jupiter at about the size of a few grains of sand.

With that, the man broke his focus, and in his eyes, the natural brown faded back into existence, surrounding a black pupil. “Now, show me the way to Gretkan.” he said, “I beseech the power of some of our mighty planets to bring us a path to the giant planet of life! Open the worm hole of space and time, and let me scry the future!”

At that, a vortex in front of his face appeared, and illuminated the room with bright, mystical light appeared in front of him in a swirling, sky blue vortex. Within, a vision of a creature was seen. The creature had the shape of a gas pump, with four gas pumping ‘arms’ freakishly enough, and had a swirling vortex of purple and green swirl about in every which way, and atop that central gas dome, a singular, yellowish-green eye sat, on an eye socket attached by a simple cord.

“Vortexaco!” the man gasped in realization, “The gas master who can rip a big one to break the bounds of time and space. Of course!” He smirked, “With this godly creature’s help, I can build a portal to Gretkan, and build a new civilization on an inhabitable, and humongous planet, nearly the size of Jupiter!”

With that, he laughed a laugh that sounded a mix between ecstatic and maniacal. This was his chance, his fate, and destiny! It was written in the stars of the Occult’s future, to escape earth and eke a new life on this colossal planet.

Dilasc

15th October 2005, 7:09 PM

Because I'm such a nice person, I figure I'd describe a bit about Gretkan. The question is, why am I actually bothering, other than that lame excuse of a reason above. Is it to entice more readers? To shamelessly bump? Because I enjoy it? Rumors say that the reason may even be different than that. Its up to you to decide! Of course, I won’t reveal TOO much yet, or I won’t have a chance to slowly release this fictitious science. Ok, so the real reason is that foir maybe a few days, my original work on the next chapters is stuck in a flooded room, all thanks to eight days of rain. So I'm gonna be nice and offer more stuff even as I suffer at a different computer.

Gretkan is a huge, and obviously fictitious planet that resides many, many light years away from Earth. It is huge! It's larger than Saturn, nearly as big as Jupiter. The thing about Gretkan is that its air is breathable by humans and thus, most Pokemon can breath as well.

Gretkan orbits at about one hundred fifteen million miles away from its main star, meaning that it takes about ten and a quarter minutes for light to reach it. It completes its year in about five hundred twenty two days. A full day on Gretkan is about fourteen hours, meaning the planet is somewhat larger at the equator than it is north to south, like most planets have to some lesser degree.

The star that Gretkan revolves around is smaller than the sun. It is a white star, and is therefore hotter, and has a few billion years on the sun. This star has been named Lylirac. There are four other planets orbiting Lylirac

Dilasc

17th October 2005, 6:26 PM

Hmm, seems nobody’s reading... meh! It won’t slow me down, nor will the two star rating I mysteriously have attained. Here is the revamped and spruced up chapter two. Don’t forget to reply. I would have had it up sooner if my basement wasn’t flooded in. Really, it was pretty bad, but luckily all is well now.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 2: Dile M for Murder!

“Now, before you go, you might wish to pick up some essentials right here and now.” it was Mr. Brenetmos. “As for you Mitchell,” he looked to the dazed out, dark skinned boy “I think you’d best be going.”

The boy nodded, and with nay a word strode slowly towards, then out the door. A certain sense of creepiness seemed to disperse from the air as he left, for his lack of contact with the seemingly real world seemed all but disturbing.

“So… what was with that kid?” Phil wondered. Despite the vengeance that weighted down on his mind like five tons of finely mason crafted bricks, he simply had to know what gave.

“Mitchell, well, the boy has ADD.” Brenetmos sighed. It was a sad fact of life. Pokemon and humans alike could oh so suddenly come down or be born with a mental or physical debility.

“Advanced Dungeons and Dragonites?” he asked, “That hardly sounds bad. I mean I’m not a fan but if…” he was cut off, as the mustached man began again.

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil nodded in understanding. It was, after all, not in Phil’s best interest to poke fun at those less fortunate than himself. “That was hardly funny, Phillip.”

“Uh, Mr. Brenetmos,” began Gina in confusion, “Would he really be, uh,” she paused, a word like sane or stable would just sound wrong, “having trouble with something so meager?”

“He...” the man paused, the least bit happy with himself. “No, I have to apologize. He really has severe PDD, Pervasive Developemental Disorder. I do not know how I mixed those up.” He sighed, he feeling of embarrassment diminishing quickly as he resumed explanation, “His mother suggested he have himself one in order to help him out. He isn’t going to be adventuring at all.”

“So that means… it doesn’t matter what Pokemon he has! Damnit!” Phil growled at this realization. “Maybe I can still catch him and switch! I can get rid of this murderer and be done with…” he blinked… Busted! Caught! Pwned! Abort mission! All your base are belong to us! “Uh, I mean to say…” he trailed. He couldn’t find the words for the situation. He was caught bloody red handed and the vengeance had yet to be even remotely fulfilled.

Mr. Brenetmos however, looked stern as he heard the boy. His expression was of even more utmost seriousness than before, and his words rang with a sense of command. “Say no more.” he said firmly. “I’ll talk with you about this later, Phillip.”

“Uh, ok.” he shrugged. ‘Bide your time and your revenge shall be assured.’ his mind was happy with the thoughts of death. The anticipation was hard to resist, but what had to be done was done. For now, he’d wait, for he loved chocolate, and anything better, had to be worth the time.

Brenetmos made things clear as he went on to provide the basics for starting trainers. A few Pokeballs, a Pokedex. It should, for those who know, be obvious, that these are the basics that every trainer receives when at their ‘Lab of Origin’. Mind you, it was nary a long explanation. The time spent was mostly finding the Pokeballs to provide for trainers.

“Well then,” went the professorial man as the two kids were all geared up. “I guess my work is done.” He exhaled greatly in relief, making the room smell of odd odors. “What happens from hereon is up to you.” he said, as if a riddling prophet was in his heart, soul, and mind. “If you don’t mind… I believe I need to speak to you alone Mr. Molson.” he eyed Gina. “I’m sorry Gina, but I hope you understand.”

With an understanding nod, the girl with green hair was on her way. Once she was out the door, and shut the door, the scientific man looked at Philip. “It seems you are angry about something.” he began, as he addressed the boy in a counseling manner. “Care to explain?” he asked in false wonder.

“I…” Phil thought, carefully considering his next words extra carefully. “I... just didn’t want the Totodile.” his shifty eyes betrayed the honesty of his words. But he was transparent to the professor long before he arrived to the lab all together.

“I thought you were not one to lie. You’re a horrible actor too.” the professor shrugged, sighing afterwards as he moved on. “Getting to the point, I know you feel that this thing killed your sister.”

This infuriated the boy. How he knew, he knew not. He would damn well be finding out, if his anger could be kept under wraps. “It did!” he exploded. “I saw it with my eyes! It’s an abomination!” he stamped his foot in thunderous anger and would have cracked the earth open if he had the might of a god.

“I’m afraid your anger is fueled by a false lead.” the man replied. “Working in the field of science and medicine isn’t specialized right from the start. I spent some time in the field of Forensics when I was younger, I know what is what.” he added. “I helped the examination of the body. The way she apparently died was not the cause of this creature.” he said, “Let the Totodile out of its Pokeball. I think it too should know all this.” this was not a suggestion, it was a demand, and Phil knew he had no choice.

With an extreme game of mental warfare with his conscious, Phil hesitantly unleashed the aquatic reptile. “Ok, so now the killer is in the open!” he remarked.

Brenetmos however, ignored the snide words, and instead opted to continue speaking. “You think fate is being cruel and unjust with an unlucky draw.” he explained. “Yet, truth be told, I planned you to get this creature the whole time.”

“Wh… WHAT?!” he nearly exploded five times worse than before. His eyes went wider than a football with pupils bigger and more thunderous than bowling balls. “You… you traitor!” he blurted. He felt not only vengeful, but now he was deceived, betrayed, and backstabbed! “I feel the urge to kill you too, but you’re not the murderer!” he bellowed in rage, tears nearly forming in watery eyes.

“Your anger is understandable. However, I assure you that this creature isn’t a murderer.” the professor explained as calmly as he could under this pressure. “Trust time, Phillip, to reveal all things.” he explained. “I know you will see the truth. You may likely never find the true killer, but finding false alternatives will not help the matter in the least!” the mans face was flustered from the burning heat of the room. It was after all, nearly Summer, and living on an inland nation meant blazing heat. “I’m sure your sister wouldn’t want you to kill an innocent.”

“Fine.” sighed Phillip in defeat as he picked up the Totodile by the nape of its neck and began to walk. As he escaped the sight of the sagely Pokemon expert, his grip tightened, and his words were quiet, yet angry. “Your life is going to be hell beyond the one you’ll be begging to get to!” he roared silently. It seems, like the many teenagers of today, a word goes in one ear and swiftly tries to escape via the other. “I don’t care what they say! I saw you and all your dastardly kin!” he glared the sharpest cutlery in existence as he did. He didn’t care, those glared blades would become real agonizing pain for the reptile’s leathery blue skin soon enough. The creature was verily returned to its ball, lest its most vile sight make him sick to his stomach.

Opening the door to the outdoors was a sudden change from the dimly air conditioned laboratory. His parents were outside waiting for him. His mother, much similarity could be seen in appearance from eyes to hair color, between her and him, but the facts were obvious that gender meant difference. In current state, her eyes were overflowing with worry. “NO!” she nearly shouted. “I will not lose my remaining child so soon!” she screamed, her eyes were overflowing with tears of tragic sadness. Her sadness was too much. “You’re not going!” she scolded.

That, of course is where pops chimed in. In every way the image of his father, the only differences between son and father were hair color, eye color, and the absence of bodily adult graces, like hair growth akin to an abominable snow yeti. This man was Richard Molson. “Gloria, honey. Please…” he sighed.

Women, they could be a hassle beyond the belief of the mysteries of the universe, but they meant well most of the time. She however, would hear no more, but was in no mood to fight over it. There had been enough bloodshed by far, and like any loving parent, did not want to outlive her son as well.

With a sigh, the fatherly one looked to his son again. “She’s just worried about you, my son.” he said with honesty, “We both are.”

“Oh, uh, I’ll be… fine.” he struggled. He wouldn’t dare say ‘Don’t worry pops! I’m just going to take my sister’s killer into the woods flay it alive and make nice (though blue) gator-skin goulashes, just for you. Happy Father’s Day!’ Such words would likely be wrong.

“I hope so.” he sighed to his son with concern, “So, what Pokemon did you get?” he asked, changing the subject, a certain tinge in his voice most hidden would suggest that the question was almost rhetorical.

“It’s a Totodile.” the son replied. The was no enthusiasm or distastefulness in his voice. It was as though he didn’t care. Truth be known, he hated the creature more than anything in existence.

“Ah, yes… as Wilbur told me it would be…” his glance became serious. “Yes, I know all about this.”

“Great…” his tone was thick with extreme sarcasm. “And what is your lecture, father?” he asked.

“There is none.” he was after all a reasonable man, “A lecture would just be wasting both of our time as it travels in and out of your ears the instant I say it. I will however warn you that if you do hurt this innocent creature, I will never consider you my son again.” his tone was serious, yet lacking of anger.

It almost scared Phillip when his father talked like that. His mouth hung open for a few seconds in utter horror and shock. It took him a few seconds to catch a second wind, and speak again. “But dad! It…” he was interrupted. His father, apparently, had not completed his soliloquy of grand importance.

“Killed my beloved daughter… yes, that is what you believe. I however doubt that to the extreme. I would bet my life and football watching on that,” that was big. Richard, like most adult men, was enamored with the sport of football. “And that is not a joke either.” he added with true honesty. “Do you know the pain of outliving your own children?” he asked, answering a second later. “It hurts a lot.”

The boy sighed, how could he dare say no to his own father. “Alright…” he trailed, his eyes shifting in every which direction to avoid eye contact.

“I know you’re likely ignoring every word I say. You’re young, you think you’re right. I know, I was your age once, thirty-three years ago.” he began. “I’m sure even punishment as extreme as that which I’ve stated cannot sway your mind. However, I know that time will each you best. I’m sure you’ll learn to see the truth, and your zealous hate will soon be quelled.”

The only response he received was a low grumble from his son as he kicked a rock along the sidewalk to occupy his complex mind.

“Regardless, if that’s not enough for you, then I‘m sure your sister wouldn’t approve of such action. Losing it all before you could even begin.” yes the riddling nature of complexity never ceases.

A vision rushed the lad’s mind. It was a sight of death. Before him was a cave filled with blue gators lying dead in a river of their own water and blood. At the center he was, his mouth foaming like a rabid beast as he craved for more vengeance. Truly this wasn’t villainous, was it? Yea right! A murderer deserves no right to life. After all, life was a privilege, and a blessing. But taking the life of another was plain wrong. All it was, was life for life. Wasn’t that a fair trade?

But such thought brought up he whole circular cycle of life, and one of man’s greatest conquests, the food chain. But that’s making use of what one kills. Though had there been nay a bloody, corporeal trace around, as several blue gators feasted upon his sister’s remains, he’d probably be just as furious. No, he’d daresay, be even more loathsome and hell-bent towards the inquisition of their species in the fullest. An utter conquest of blood and water, both not nearly as thick as the barrier to the reasons against such preposterous ideas.

His father rubbed softly at the tip of his brow, wiping away a few trickling beads of forming sweat. “Your mother, of course, knows nothing about this.” he said, slicing the silence to pieces with his sudden words. “I’m afraid she wouldn’t take it very well.” he added to brighten the mood. It was probably the most positive thought both men had vocalized all day. Well, that is of course until, “Now, why not just quit your worrying for at least an hour and make peace at the very least for one last meal with your family for what may be quite a while.” he licked his lips in anticipation. “I know how much you love when your mother makes meatballs, and I’d be more than inclined to agree.” he smiled.

Women, were after all, efficient in the field of cooking, and the horns of war could wait for one last hearty meal. “Dad, I’d love to.” he smiled. It was after all, going to be a rough beginning, with a very likely chance that the reaper would be dragging some creeps down to hell.

▼■DoomWing■▼

17th October 2005, 6:37 PM

how do you close a thread?

Dilasc

17th October 2005, 6:42 PM

Ok spammer. I feel the urge to hurt you, but I'm a better man than that. You can't close a thread, and damn you for eternity for even suggesting that MY thread should be closed.

What ever happened to the REAL reviewers?

▼■DoomWing■▼

17th October 2005, 6:46 PM

no i mean like my own llousy threads
and i dont whats spamming im new pls dont be angry i didnt mean it

Dragonfree

17th October 2005, 6:52 PM

Basically, this is Dilasc's fic thread and if you're just going to ask something that has nothing to do with the fic like how you close your own threads (which you can't, to answer your question), you should post in "SPPf help and newbie lounge", not in his fic thread.

This isn't just a chatroom where you can say whatever you want wherever you want. Things belong in different places.

▼■DoomWing■▼

17th October 2005, 6:57 PM

im sry
i can make somethin fic too
infact im making a fic on pokemon right now:D
i could submit it

Dilasc

17th October 2005, 7:11 PM

Don't you DARE post it in this thread. If you want to make your more than likely noobish fic, make your own post! Please, DONT reply again unless you're going to make a useful review. If not, then stay the heck out of my thread!

Anyway, any real readers out there? I could use some realistic posts to kill the spam. Anyone?

Elemental Charizam

17th October 2005, 8:10 PM

After all, teeth grinded together, and twisting the very skin into the most angered state possible, while getting redder than a tomato, really isn’t very attractive.
Ignore the embedded clause when writing the end of you sentence; 'teeth' are plural, whereas 'isn't' is singular. It should be 'aren't' instead.

Wavy brown hair streaked down towards the top of his neck, and his green eyes deepened to a dark and angry shade, or so it’d seem [B]worthy of belief.
Erm... I don't understand what you're trying to sat there =/

Right by a cave of many of these blue reptilians and seemingly bigger versions. His eyes caught their glances, and tears of anger began to well in the boy’s eyes. The sight was too much! He could not bear to watch them feast upon his three years younger sister’s remains, which is no doubt what they’d intend to do.
The exclamation mark isn't wrong, and so you don't need to correct it, but I felt it detracted from the drama.

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil oh so suddenly nodded in understanding. He knew what that meant.
Stomach
That was random XP

I only pointed out one example of each kinda mistake, 'cause I'm lazy :p Anyways, typos aside, it looks lika good start. I can remember this actually, and though I thought it was getting a bit weird near the end, it'll be good to read the rest. Great imagery near the end, my favourite being the description of the dead Feraligatr. Good job!

Dilasc

19th October 2005, 3:27 AM

Charizam: I appreciate the spotting of those errors. Really, I like when people find the mistakes I miss. It's like a few eyes are watching me from above... or at least, from afar.

Well now, revising this helps me prove how AWFUL I used to be. I don’t even know how or why people considered me to be... good. Descriptive I can see, but man, metaphoric abuse was abundant! Anyway, another chapter refurbished and ready to go live, hopefully I didn’t miss anything too severe.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 3: Day of Our Lies

A batch of mother’s delicious meatballs clears away sorrow and despair. It was the way of delicious food as their taste compels people to go back for more and more, untila queasy feeling enveloped said person in its stomach churning grip.

“Well Phillip.” is mother smiled weakly. Her notion of outliving her other son was none to pleasant. “I know it’s wrong to tell you not to go, but be careful, son.” She was practically begging him not to go on the inside.

“I’ll be fine mom…” the boy replied. His mind began to wander again. A feeling of guilt washed over him as though he had been hit by a typhoon. His eyes squinted as their gaze fixated down to the floor. The eyes were a gateway to the soul, and he didn’t want his mother to see the taint that haunted his. No, not her. She would overreact, and a woman... well, they could be a most dangerous enemy.

“Relax dear!” replied Richard. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” he stared at his son. “Nothing bad will happen, now will it?” he asked his son. Though fortunately his mother did not catch on, Phil was rather sure he knew the implications clearer than crystal, heck, they were clearer than a transparent glass. All that the boy did was nod.

As Phil glanced oh so quickly at his parents his eyes nearly watered. He would not want to break their hearts. It would be a pain that would not go away. “I guess this is… good bye.” he spoke.

“Take care of yourself.” his father spoke, his eyes lighting up as a ray of hopeful thinking struck his brain. “And if worst comes to worst, just remember to let your Molson do the talking.” he grinned.

And the young Molson could not help but chuckle at his father’s words. As useless as advice as it was meant to be, the function was clear: laugh a little, live long.

Yet, indeed it was a little, as he quickly strode forth from his house, and into the sunlight’s glaring heat. He quickly slammed the door behind him. Revenge was nigh, no matter the cost! It was no longer even about his sister’s departure to the afterlife! That had long since drowned itself out in a river of bloodlust.
“Adults…” he murmured grumpily to himself as he walked along the soft dirt road, kicking random rocks as he went, “They think I’m a some sort of insane, senseless jerk!” he mumbled. His kicking became more angry, and as such was backed with more and more force, forcing the dirt to fly up in front of him, creating a dusty cloud that oh so slightly blocked his vision with tan sand, though his pants and shoes were cakes with the tan colored sand.

His eyes wandered ahead. The lush pine trees and ferns surrounded him with a sight of nature in its purest, and most serene form. Amongst them, flowers and plants of red and more splashed a nice blend of forest calm. Surely this was a place of peace, and its serenity would be not disturbed.

The scent of the forest was much invigorating as the chirping of birds and the noises of other animals also rang out in the forest’s natural symphony of life. “How lively…” spoke the Molson boy aloud and to himself. “And yet, a mile back, in Hallsburg, I feel unchanged.” he shrugged.

Distanced from home at last! He was gone from Hallsburg now, but just because home was not so far behind, Phil wouldn’t quite feel safe to commence with his plan just yet. Perhaps, a mile or so deep into the safety of the woods would bring the perfect spot, set just right for revenge.

As he walked, he noticed something that perked his interest. The hissing of angry voices perked his eyes to follow, and a vision of two purple mice playing tug of war with… something. He did not know what.

Their teeth, sharp and long were deeply sunk into each an end of the long object as they seemed to growl between one another. “Rattata…” he noted quietly. They were a common kind, but in no way pitiful beings. Their sharp teeth and lithe forms meant that they could be a dangerous force. “Why couldn’t I have gotten one of those?” he nearly yelled to nobody at all.

It was at his voice that mice and man were now staring face to face. That was of course, until the timid, purple rodents jolted off at lightning speed to the sanctum of the shrubbery. Phil however, simply smirked as he looked to the discarded object they dropped when they fled… it was rope, simple every day rope, but there was a slight crimson to its tint… blood. It was dried of course, but at this point in time, Phil did not care.

“Weird…” he noted as he thought he could use it. ‘A perfect thing to strangle a killer. Ha!’ he grinned.

His trekking continued shortly after, and at not but a mile’s distance, a small splotch of thick foliage felt oh so right for blood and glory. So out with the iron sphere, the prison where a criminal monster was stored, had opened, never to be used again.

The gator on its freedom glanced cautiously around it. Trees, plants, vegetation, all seemed such a pleasant sight, if it weren’t for the scowl on the face of the angry human before him. As he grabbed forcefully on the creature’s neck, his eyes flared wild with searing hate! “I hate you…” he spoke, calm yet angry. His other arm, extended to slap the creature in the side of its jaw large. It felt empowering to say the least.
The Totodile, on the other hand, recoiled as the physical attack made its contact. It did no scream. It did not cry. It simply stayed quiet as its eyes downcast to the grassy road went soft and sad.

“Murderous scum!” Phil sneered! His voice was filling with volume as his grip began to tighten around the creature’s neck. Though the gator’s mouth went wide, desperately trying to fill its being with oxygen, it did not scream. On the inside though, it was desperately, and deeply afraid. Afraid for its life… afraid for its trainer’s life.

“You sicken me so much, demon!” his teeth gnashed. Had he tried, he could have bitten though a rock he was so angry. Hatred flooded his brain in a rush of agony. How lovely it would have been to ring this creature’s neck. Had it not been for the words of his father though, he’d have long since been finished.

Instead, he opted for a mere violent toss to the ground with whatever strength his not so toned form could muster. Sufficient to be said that when you’re hardly two feet tall, its not difficult to make a scratch, as small as it may be. It was the heart and soul that hurt the blue creature the most on its landing.

Phillip’s eyes did their damned best to staunch the likely to occur flow of tears.

“Well?” Phil began as if expecting something to happen. “Go on. Get out of here!’ his voice roared with anger mixed with the agonizing overpowering of peace! Go home to your murderer’s cave,” he sneered at the beast. “Get out of here before I change my mind!”

The blue one looked upwards towards its trainer. It looked at him with concern, with fear, with pity, with hope, but it did not see the human as an enemy. No, he was mislead, and found the wrong killer. The Totodile, could have spoken the human tongue would have told him everything, especially about the real killer. Alas, the best it would do is just chant its name in a raspy voice and piss him off.

On the other hand, it DID value and cherish its life, apparently amongst the wilds as it had been oh so recently. It knew the ay home. It was not far to the river cavern, and the forest was simple to navigate. Its pace however, was slow, its clawed reptilian feet dragging themselves forcefully through the soil, sullen look upon its face as though in a last ditch attempt, pity would bring softening heart.

But the Molson avenger was not bought by the act in the least. “I cannot stand the sight of you!” he yelled in harsher tones every time. A pebble made its way into his hand “Move faster!” he yelled again as he tossed the tiny mineral, striking the gator in the back of the neck, causing the creature to go into panic as is retreat became speedy, kicking up grass as its movement kicked up dirt and grass, leaving Phil, at long last, alone.

Finally, he had been rid of the creature. But to what avail? He knew not. ‘It’ll kill again. But it better not kill anything I know, or there will be no more warnings.’ Phil mumbled quietly as he took some time to think about whatever he could. Ideas, memories, and recent events all raced through his mind, vying to consume his thoughts in more peaceful ideas.

The first to succeed were memories of hi sister. Sara Tanya Molson… she would be missed. The better of two siblings, she was smart, social, funny, forgiving, and always supportive. She had a curiosity that was never matched, and he knew she would go to help Mr. Brenetmos around the place, just because she was into animals. It was likely how Brenetmos knew correctly when he said she was a bit of a klutz, but in no way was she hazardous. Yes, she had flaws, one of which was a horrible secret that Phil never mentioned that he knew.

Though he never remembered exactly how he figured it out, he did well know that Sara was a bit of a, believe it or not, lesbian. ‘I still don’t know HOW I know that. She’s only 12!’ he chuckled. The laughter for a second lightened the hefty feeling weighing his heart down like a scale without balance. Fact is though, when you’ve lost someone, its almost impossible to start out by dwelling on the bad.

It was she who knew about Pokemon, not him. Phil knew little beyond the simple facts. It was she who was meant to be trainer anyway. He sighed, ‘Even if all went well, I’d still have failed her almost indubitably.’

He needed to sit. His mind then wandered to this morning. How he was there, not Sara, waiting upon hopefully to take her dream far. There was also Gina. Yes, Gina Meshing, friend of his sister. How on earth had he rarely seen her before? Yes, he would hope to lay eyes on her again. He smiled, if not for a second, for following this thought was Brenetmos.

Yes, well respected, intelligent Mr. Brenetmos… was a scheming, conniving devil. He set Phil up, he did. His insane plans were beyond foolish, and doomed to fail. By doomed to fail, that of course meant doom the victim to failure. It made him wonder, ‘What if I got a good Pokemon?’ he thought. ‘Like a Rattata.’ Why not a Rattata? Though said to be small and frail, they were quite perseverant little beasts with their adaptability to almost any environment. The fangs they sported didn’t look weak by any stretch of the imagination.

In short time, something else caught his eye, for flying in a blur of feathery grace was a brown, though small bird. As it soared carefully between the trees, it cawed out a word, presumably its name. “Or maybe a Pidgey…” Phil resumed his thoughts. He knew of these birds. They were everywhere, sort of like how Rattata were all over the place as well, but Pidgey were less cowardly, with their tendency to perch on telephone poles, fences and wire cables. At any rate, it’d have been better than the, accursed gator that he was given!

While Phil mulled around deep in his thoughts, Gina was trudging another neck of the woods (literally), her mind hardly weighted down by much. She was, after all, free. Free of the pain at home, and the misery of quarreling parents. Only the biting insects posed any form of true irritation.

As she smiled to the graceful songs of birds and beasts, the light in her heart did nothing but conceal an awkward onlooker as he watched from behind the shrubs. “Ooh, another girl!” the voice’s owner smiled as he watched her approach the river. The voice’s owner laughed a most freaky laugh. It was as though the possessor of the voice was on some form of illegal substance abuse. “Whee!” Somehow, there was an extremely obvious lack of sanity in whoever this person was.

It was then, that the person made its presence known. It was, without a doubt, male. Towering over the girl, his eyes seemed to wander everywhere, his smile seemed to stay locked in a most frightening smile that was definitely not quite a smirk. But his voice, it sounded as though it lacked any form of restraint in its words, and his actions seemed just as unstably random. “Hello girly!” he spoke, startling Gina from her peace. His face was indeed adultly, though distorted and contorted with pierced eyes, ears… almost everything had an earring in it. His freakishly unstable smile widened as he roared into his psychotic laughter yet again.

Phil smiled. It seemed he may get a chance to continue even without the Totodile, for an blue creature with a grassy green hairdo had drawn in close. That is of course, until a scream of terror filled the air, followed shortly after by the panicked flight of birds flapping madly into the wild blue skies as the shout’s echo flooded through the trees. The blue creature too, had made itself scarce as well. “Oh no!” Phil’s mind began poisoning itself yet again with vengeful thought. “Those murderous gators are going to kill another person!” Another scream rang his ears yet again, though this one seemed to be cut off forcefully. All he could do was follow the sound.

“Hey!” yelled as his scouring proved successful. It was by chance after all that this seemed damned close to where those Totodile lived like killers.

But the watery beasts were not the source of this problem. Instead, he saw what appeared to be a man pierced all about his body. His hair wild and spiked. “Lookie!” the wackjob spoke! “A witness to be destroyed!” he spoke, proving that optimistic feelings could be anywhere! “Hahahaha!” and then went his laugh. Phil had to cringe as he heard it. It sounded so horribly freaky, and oh so wrong.

To the left on the floor side was, he couldn’t believe it, “Gina!” yes, it was Ms. Meshing. She was tied at the legs, and her hands were behind her back. Her mouth seemed to be gagged. “You!” he yelled to the man. “What the hell are you doing?” His mind was overflowing with worry and fear. He had seen enough deaths of people he knew. Phil would not let this freaky man kill her if

“Me?” the wacko asked, feigning innocence that failed in an instance. “I’m just Jimmy!” he shrugged. Again, he proceeded to laugh in his more chillingly feminine, insane voice. “I’m only having fun, playing shoot and stab with my latest catch.” he spoke with pride, foolishly. It was then that Phil noticed the gun in his hand.

But the Molson looked on in worry. “You’re insane!” he spat with immense hatred. He then remembered the rope he held. Could it have been possible?

Jimmy the nutcase let his eyes widen. “Ah, so my last fun catch was related to you. Ooh! How ” he smiled in a the freakiest admiration ever seen. “I guess this means more fun for me.” and he unleashed yet again that scary female laugh. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need time to make the girl scream loudly! Whee!”

“Shut up! You won’t dare!” Phil roared with tears as he lunged angrily. This was his sister’s murderer all along. Oh how he should have listened to his father, to Mr. Brenetmos. They did not want to betray him, they wanted to help him, and he despised their ideas. The crazy man never saw it coming as Phil’s balled and angrily tight clenched fist slammed into the man’s jaw.

“Ooh! You’re feisty!” he laughed. He didn’t even seem to flinch to the pain, but considering how little he knew about physical fighting, it might have been unsurprising. “This’ll be fun.” he chided in his giddy, insane tone as he pointed the gun to Phil’s head.

‘This is the end!’ Phil thought. A tear escaped his eye. He would never be able to appeal for this sin. He would die guilty.

Just down the river, a familiar blue gator was encroaching upon a cave. It was, after all, the order of his master. ‘Go home.’ those words rang in its mind. It would be home, and try to forget and forgive al that had happened. That was, of course, until the psycho laughter it knew too well had sounded, followed by what seemed to be a familiar voice. Perhaps, things could be straightened out after all. Time was not to be wasted.

Phil could not bear to watch the dishonorable, and no doubt painful feeling of his own death. ‘I have failed. I failed not only myself, but my sister, and the Totodile. I’m gonna to die!’ As such, he shut his eyes as he was held tight in the psycho’s grasp. It was then that he felt a force tingle upon his skin. The sound of gun shot however, was unheard. ‘Oblivion awaits!’

Dilasc

22nd October 2005, 1:29 AM

And yet more is done up again. If the peanut gallery finds any errors, then by all means, don’t hesitate to let me know so I can fix them. After all, there's bound to be corrections I have yet to make.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 4: The Trial of Tears (and Blood)

‘Is this what it feels like to bleed?’ Questioned Phillip from within his mind as he felt a strong force against him. ‘Is this what its like to die?’ his mind questioned again, ‘Should I dare open my eyes to see the doomed afterlife I’ve succumbed to? It feels so cold, I must be fading...’ he questioned consistently. Fear swept his mind, and like glue, fear kept his eyes shut until he had a damn good reason to open them.

“Ooh! My gun go flyyyy…” went a familiar psychotic voice. “Flying! Whee!” that laughter which followed, and the insane, effeminate tone. It could only mean one thing.

‘This must be hell.’ Phil’s mind assumed. ‘I’m hardly surprised.’ he sighed, and, after much hesitation, opened his eyes to see what had happened.

From the blur of nothingness, the visions of the blue skies above and forest shrubs stood before him. “Welcome back sleepy head!” came an agitating voice, followed by an insidiously agonizing laughter. It was Jimmy! The whack job still held the boy firmly in his grasp, but as he looked to his hands, no gun could be found. But a look to the right and ten feet away, in the soft dirt nearby gave him his answer. Someone had disarmed this man, and did a damned good job of it too.

An answer to that stood before him in a rage of blue, armed with claws and teeth. “Totodile!” he called to the blue creature. “I know you must hate me, but I realize my mistake! If you can accept my apology…” Phillip’s eyes were wild with fear as his mind knew what must be done, “Then please, untie Gina and get her out of here!” he was practically begging the creature to save her.

“Ooh! Croc! Croikey! I don’t bring you enough dead bodies, you‘re spoiled little crocies!” rambled Jimmy in purely ecstatic insanity. “I see dead people!” he continued, as he rambled on about god knows how many famous, hip and hot TV and movie clich&#233;s and one liners. “Fly me to the moon in a batter of cake.”

Phil’s muscles tightened. This man was not going to get away with his crime. No, he was going to suffer. In spite of the fact that his psychotic smile never died, Jimmy would be hurting and badly at that. And that of course, is where Phil made his first attempted struggle, and a lash from his flailing feet went right to the man’s shins. “You are going to regret so much!” he yelled as the man’s grip loosened.

“Ooh, my foot feels funny.” laughed the crazy one as his voice brought creepy feeling to all nearby. “Croccy wants to play! Whee!” he grinned as he noticed the blue gator rescuing damsel in distress.

The creature’s claws wildly swiped at the rope on her hands, attempting to cut it off in as many fell swipes as its little claws could. It was to no avail. All it did was wear down its nails as they reddened in soreness as all they did were an extremely slow deterioration, not too mention a few inaccurate swipes causing bruises to the poor lass in question. It seemed that the girl would have to wait, or else risk shredding her up, and facing the guilt of murder.

As it looked towards its struggling trainer, the Totodile had a better idea. Though not exactly safe as it was, fighting would be the only answer. The human boy pleaded for apology, and that had meant he knew the truth. Indeed, it helped immensely. It was not about to let all that be smashed and eviscerated by a simple madman. With a deep breath, it went to work pitting its animal prowess against the madness of a man.

“Words cannot describe my anger!” Phil sneered as his foot took another swipe at the man’s bruising shins. His grip on the boy had loosened at last, leaving Phil’s hands free to strangle, punch, or gouge out as freely as he’d wish. “You’re not fit to be alive, scum!” he roared, taking a punch at the man’s stomach. His fist only connected with an open palm. After all, an important rule of keeping your hide alive, never hit a crazy person. The Molson boy had nearly sealed his fate.

“You’re a fun dancer. Let’s boogie!” he grinned as his fist flew towards the boys jaw with an immense force. There was no way he could block it. His hand was parried and gripped tightly. His other hand was at the wrong side of his face. How on earth this psycho managed to grab a hook from the right with his left hand was beyond Phil, but it hardly mattered now.

It was then that a blue meteor of reptilian hide smashed head first into the man’s gullet. Its force was strong, and got quite the reaction the laws of physics would deem fit, sending the psycho sprawling to the ground on his side. Yet, as he fell, he laughed yet again. His feminine laugh did not dither or choke on a syllable as its accursed sound rang through all ears present. His smile and enthusiasm seemed as great as ever. “Whee!”

Phil took no time to wait. Mustering whatever force he could, he darted upon the smiling, fallen body and sent his fists as many times as possible to the mans face and nose. Every ounce of blood he shed would be a victory in itself in his mind. Revenge was long overdue, and this time, his attacks were not repelled by psychotic arms. He was not about to wait. After all, a fair fight was out of the question when he’d already been pointed at with a gun.

Punch after punch as both of Phil’s fists swung wildly, empowered by an enormous backing of adrenaline. But no matter how badly his face would bruise, especially where the openings around the piercings on his face began to loose blood, he could not hurt this man’s smile. It just lingered as he laughed every now and then, even after blood was clearly running down the side of his face. “This is it monster!” Phil panted heavy in the midst of rage and fury. “Send my regards to whoever takes care of evil scum like you in the afterlife!” his voice was rasped, filled with an overflowing berserk harshness. “Tell him to save me a nice spot someday!” he roared. The look on his face was weird. Instead of being angry and gritted teeth, Phil was grinning wildly. He almost sounded proud as he rang out the short soliloquy towards the cur of a criminal.

Gina, from her helpless and vulnerable state was moving and struggling against the flow of the bonds. It wasn’t easy, but with thanks to a stroke of luck, stacked upon the sloppily done job at mouth gag, Gina was able to a few words in. “Wait!” she shouted.

Her voice, it was a sense of refreshment that washed over Phil’s entire being and soul. With a quick jab to the murderer’s stomach, he scowled. “Don’t even try to move!” he warned darkly, only to be met by more insidious laughter. Phil shuddered as he heard that jerk’s laughter for the umpteenth time in the last hour or so. A rush of sadness swept through his being. There was Gina, tied up and a tad bruised, asking him to hold back for just but a moment. He would have to be as crazy as the man he was throttling to death to not listen. “What is it?” his voice was that of concern as he ran towards her, pulling the gag from her mouth at long last after what felt like an eternity in one mere hour.

Her eyes were pleading. “Don’t kill him.” she seemed to beg. Her eyes were watering up, “I know he’s a cruel person, but please.” she couldn’t hold it back. Tears stream down her cheeks. “Just no killing today.” she pleaded, wishing she could wipe the tears from her eyes.

Phil himself, could see the true sadness in her eyes. A fear swept over him. ‘Dear god!’ he figured. ‘I’m nothing but an abomination!’ and at long last, a softness touched his heart. “I must admire you.” he admitted. “But I’m not letting him off the hook, woman! Do you realize what he did?” he sighed. He simply couldn’t leave a cruel monstrosity like this to roam the world wild and hazardous to all.

Without needing to be told, Phil fulfilled in ten seconds what a Pokemon had strained with risky and effort to do… he untied the ropes. Then again, when you have the advantage of human fingers, opposable thumb especially, its really not as stellar as it sounds.

“Aw, how cute!” spoke Jimmy, going wide eyed and sickly. “Cooties! Cooties! Cooties!” he raved wildly, rather beaten and dazed on the soft soil. The ground soaked up the blood from his face as he lips still maintained its insane smile. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere at all.

Gina’s eyes began to dry just a bit, as she rubbed a the salty tear trickling down her cheek. “Thank you, Phil.” she smiled as strongly as she could. It was a failing smile however hard she try, and it wavered, waiting to go back to the crying it longed for, letting troubles flush and drown away in tears.

But Phil wasn’t feeling very thanks worthy. No, he hadn’t quite been successful yet. “Hold still!” he yelled to the crazy man as he hauled back to him holding many pieces of untied rope.

It wasn’t easy to restrain him. His psychotic giggles grating deep into the skull, his sudden outbursts and giddy shaking and struggling did not make things easy by any stretch. In the end however, Phil managed to tie the man’s arms firmly behind his back, and his legs tied together at just above the tongue of his shoes. Tying his mouth shut was much too risky. Every time his hands grew near, a pair of crazy teeth would try and snap at him like a wild tortoise.

Fearing the worst, Phil knew he might not let go had he grasped anything in his teeth. Had he given him a stone, it’d likely be crushed to dust before his teeth would realize that they needed to feel the pain of such a force.

“You’re lucky that the girl over there has a goodly heart! Otherwise yours would be bleeding on a platter after I’d rip it from your black blooded existence.” taunted the Molson avenger. The empowering feeling behind this victory was unbelievable. He wanted to do it again, and again. And whenever Gina would have a change of heart and mind, the villains black heart would be dubbed an heirloom even if he had to dub it as such himself.

The man was now fully restrained. Such was a costly victory. The blue reptilian knew its master had won the day. It approached him cautiously, standing there, waiting as though something were to happen. Its head was downcast, water filling slightly in its eyes. Phil of course, stared back. “Well, are we going to be friends yet,” his voice cracked as the contagious feeling of sadness crept to him as well. “Or do we both have to be in a river of tears first.” As that was said, he too would lose control of his tear ducts as boy and beast embraced. The beast, tears of joy and acceptance, while the boy filled with guilt, shame, regret, and fear. “I’m so sorry.” he repeated. It felt so needed. He needed to let the sorrow he so truly felt be known.

Gina stared on as the brown haired boy as he was at long last at peace with a wrongly accused killer. She felt so weak, so wronged. ‘I agreed to Brenetmos’ plan to set those two up.’ she sighed. She had no idea that the magnitude of the setup would be so dire. A hatred so grand, and of course, Jimmy was nowhere in the plans. That was just unfortunate.

With a sigh, and a blink of her reddened tear dried eyes, she assessed the boy again. He saved her life from certain doom. No doubt, somewhere within him, ‘He felt… he was saving his sister deep inside.’ she concluded. It was unquestionably obvious! Suffice to say that there’s no complaint needed when you’re still alive thankfully. Still, why him. Him to see her weak and vulnerable. It made her want to cry, the embarrassment and shame she felt.

It was then, that a the sound of a loud choking sound was emitted from crazy man’s dangerous mouth, followed afterwards by a repulsive wad of saliva and phlegm. “Pu’me on the spit! Pu’me on the spit! Whee!” his exuberance was enough to make her vomit, and his ropes were not holding a firm enough grip.

‘He could use my help.’ Gina figured, as she fingered the Pokeball in her belt. It would be, as of this morning, the first time she had opened the red and white contraption. She fingered the sphere at the half way point between color changes. ‘Already Phil’s gotten to know his Pokemon a bit, even if by dangerous means, and I’ve yet to even know anything about my Bulbasaur.’ she considered the facts. Perhaps, a tinge of jealousy was pulsing through her veins. “Well…” she figured, cautiously tossing the Pokeball to the ground as it spiraled rapidly, causing a sight of pink to appear till it collided with the soft sandy grass.

In a flash of energetic red light, a stout, green quadruped emerged. Its face distorted immediately into a look of confusion. Looking a tad timid, it stepped towards the trainer carefully. Its voice perked as it chanted its name. Its voice, groggy in a high pitch sort of way as it looked up to the girl that stood before it. There was no doubt in its verdant mind that this person was its master.

“Hello there.” the human girl spoke to it. Her voice, mustering as much friendliness as possible. First impressions go long ways after all, and unlike Phil, she didn’t think she’d have the courage to go on if tension between her and her very first Pokemon were to arise. Being brave, she decided to extend her hand to the verdant dinosaur before that stood before her, patting the seedy growth upon its back carefully and softly. Its texture was surprisingly smooth, and felt a bit delicate, like a soft flower waiting to bloom.

It smiled to the delicate fingers that glided like a gentle wind, only softer. It chanted its name again, obviously in delight. It seemed that there’d be no discontent between these two.

“Bulbasaur.” went the green haired girl as she addressed the pokemon. “I’m going to need your help.” she said. The creature before her nodded once as the human girl pointed to Phil, who was struggling slightly at keeping the crazy man down, his Totodile doing his best to help as well. “I believe you have a move called Vine Whip.” she recalled, hoping her assumption was indeed correct. With the green one’s nod of confirmation, she gave her first ever command to her very first Pokemon. “Ok, see that man tied up over there?” she asked the beast, patting it atop the orifice atop its backside. “See if you can wrap some vines around that man’s wrists and ankles.”

From the side of its back two seemingly think and flimsy green lines seemed to sprout. These were vines, clear and smooth, only at the tips of the vines were widened bulbs that seemed to look sturdy, as though they served as the true muscle behind the might of this vinery “Hold him still just a bit longer.” Gina’s voice rang loud as she caught Phil’s attention.

As he looked up, he saw what appeared to be flying green rope wafting and wavering gently to the calm winds. This ’rope’ had the simplistic scent of fresh cut grass. As swiftly as the ropes of green whipped towards the fallen psycho, its ropey nature began to go to work, as it quickly entangled the man with the sturdiness and endurance beyond that of the real thing.

All in all, they had finally restrained the social misfit in tight binding which he would not likely be escaping. Though still remaining was the problem of the madman’s wayward, spontaneous voice box, as its randomness would put a real Tourette’s sufferer to shame.

“Now all we need to do is figure out how to haul his sorry excuse of existence out of her.” sighed Phillip. Indeed, even with a combined effort, both humans would have great trouble carrying their caught criminal anywhere. It was then that a loud, churning roar would sound. It was his stomach. “Oh god I’m, starved.” he noted.

“We can stop for a bit if you’re that hungry.” noted Gina, as the thought of eating made her stomach churn in neediness. She saddened though. “But, we have nothing to eat. How are we going to get food?”

It was then that Phillip had an idea. Were he a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared and shone brightly for millenniums to come. “Hey Totodile!” he called to the blue croc beside him. “How do you see your food around these parts?” The crocodile’s face contorted into a sly smile, Phil would have sworn it was a grin as it motioned with a clawed finger for the human to follow, which he did in a heartbeat, kicking up the dusty sand as his quick pace lead them towards the river and caves.

“Well Bulbasaur…” went Gina as she was left all alone at this point. Just a girl and her Pokemon. “You Have any ideas of good food to find around here?” she asked. She was curious. After all, it’d be a good way to learn to get to know her new Pokemon a bit better.

With half a name chant, the verdant dino smiled, pointing one of its front legs towards a group of bushes off a tad away from the river. Obviously, it was telling the human girl to follow its lead.

As bushes were tossed aside, the plant creature extended from its body another set of vines. What await was a great big bush and vine, and small red, spherical berries, fresh, glistening the reflection of the setting sun. Food it was, and good to eat, so it seemed.

With a quick and careful motion, the dinosaur gently wrapped one of its ropey vines around one of the berries. From there, it put the berry into its mouth to seemingly swallow in one gulp. When it finished however, it promptly seemed to spit out what seemed to be an inedible little seed. As it connected with the dirt, the creature’s claw seemed to reach the dirt and cover the promise of a flower to be. Satisfied at this, it smiled as it looked at its trainer.

Meanwhile, back at the river cave, Phil and his aquatic reptilian friend are now. “So… I guess you’re going to fish then.” he shrugged. Truth be told, there were no gripes from him about fish fillet.

With a nod, the Totodile looked toward the nearby cave. Its face distorted to confusion of what to do. Should it stop by at home for one last visit ever, or just move on now? It eyed the cave as it stood just a bit in the distance, noticing a few others of its kin, and bigger, more powerful looking gators as well.

“Something wrong there?” the human asked. Indeed, so it seemed, for the gator nodded its head swiftly as its clawed fingers pointed to the caves of its home. The Pokemon’s eyes looked pleading as it stared at its master.

“Ah, I see. Your family I take it.” he understood. ‘I never got to say goodbye to my sister.’ the thought yielded just but one tear, which trickled swiftly down his face. “You may say your goodbyes.”

The gator however, was not about to leave it at just that. It tugged gently upon the human’s arm, doing its best to avoid clawing it to a bloody state. The message seemed very clear.

Phil’s eyes went wide like watermelons, “Me, meet your family?” He was aghast! Sure, he had forgiven one Totodile, but his presence may make scales and red spines stand on edge, as well as claws and teeth bear themselves for defense, and rend his skin painfully.

The crocodile however, didn’t seem to care. It was do or die, and the croc wasn’t gonna let it be die. No more would things equate to die. Looking in the direction of the small cavern, it roared its species name loudly into the air, attracting the presence of all kinds of blue gators. As enough crocodiles to send an ivory hunter into seizures made themselves known, the one whom had the human seemed to speak to its reptilian brethren.

Phil, knew not what was said, nor did he care. Thoughts of vengeance however had long since become that of obscurity. Now, he only hoped it was not too late to repent. “Uh, hello.” he spoke nervously. Blue gators eyed him oddly, but in their eyes, the Molson boy could tell that they were not vicious.

As for Phil’s gator, it seemed to finish speaking, ending with a nod of its head. At that, the biggest crocodile of all time seemed to be present. Compared to a regular Totodile, this thing looked dangerous, with sharp claws, big teeth, and protective fat. But Phil’s Pokemon showed no fear as it hugged at the leg of this behemoth, who in turn, gently patted the smaller creature upon the head.

After a few more times hearing raspy voices bellow the name Totodile, and bigger voices roaring names he didn’t quite catch amongst the chatter, it was time to go. Clawed hands of all sizes leapt into the air, waving back in forth, as they saw one from their family for what may have been the last time.

“Well there.” Phil sighed in relief as he and his Pokemon made slow paced tracks back towards the river. “How about that food finding?” A grin plastered itself upon he gator as it ran right to the edge of the water. Its color was brown, thanks in part mostly to the rocks and mud that littered its floor, but was quite easily possible to see deep into it. Creatures of all kinds swam its calm waters as they darted back and forth.

The Totodile let its tongue wander the length of its long, pronounced snout as it looked into the calm, mostly clear water. It was obvious that thus wasn’t going to be a herbivorous search.

Phil however, was rather helpless to do anything. “I guess its up to you.” smiled Phil as the Totodile lunged into the water. The hunt had begun!

Blue claws lashed out at the first helpless fish it could find. The creature victimized looked red, but was blurred by the waves created to the tango of the great hunt. In a big splash, the crocodile leapt out of the water, and with it came a helpless looking red fish with what appeared to be a crown of yellow fins decorating its head, even redder than before with blood leaking from newly formed scratch marks. It yelped in pain what apparently must have been its name.

Quickly before the fish hit the water, the Totodile’s teeth lunged at the creature’s neck, biting sharply like a demonic vampire who had reawakened after thousands of years. Its force was deep into its neck. Blood began to flow like a faucet on full blast. The fish had a sealed fate.

At a splash, croc and prey hit the water once more with prey held firmly in razor sharp jaws. As it flailed away the last of its existence, its gills desperately eking any hope of survival. To no avail as it was violently tossed to the dry land. It’s last muttered word, gurgled in a mesh of blood would be ‘Karp’.

“Hmm, I guess this will do just fine.” the human shrugged. It was small, but beggars cant be choosers.

The gator however was not finished, so it seemed, for the gator seemed to leap out of the water yet again, another fishy beast of food. It’s body, glistening orange. The shine of the reflective sun made a golden tint off its shiny scales. Its white underbelly was covered in a crimson covering. It however, seemed to be able to fight back for its life. Adorning its head looked to be a razor sharp horn, its solid, sharp look put a fear into the Molson boy as he watched the circle of life in action. Carefully as possible, the gator would not go ‘head to head’ with the goldfish, opting for indeed its own safety as it swiftly angled itself to the right.

Avoiding the onslaught of this spiked object, it only managed to nick the gator’s small yet sturdy arm. In a splash, both aquatic warriors were back beneath the waves, the water murky with reddish brown as the goldfish flopped to the surface in desperation. Its well pronounced fins were seemed severed in spots, and it too, like the fish before it, was destined to be dinner. With what seemed to be a powerful swipe, the creature was sent to the dirt ground, flopping desperately to return to its watery salvation. It would not make it.

It was weak, defenseless and dying. Without the mobility of the water, it had no hope of fighting back the gator onslaught as, like the fish before it, it received a mighty throat jab from vicious incisors. Its last breath was there after by about four seconds.

The human stared in awe. The blood that was spilled should have been a horrible sight. He had, after all, wiped all thinking of that kind from his mind. At least, he hoped he had. Fact was though that he liked it, and not just because this spilled blood would fill his starving innards. There was something else, something deeper. He knew not himself either. ‘I’m just hungry, that’s all.’

He looked back to the crocodile. It looked ready to find more feast. “Hey! We have enough, I think.” the human called out, disrupting instinct’s controlling ways. In a leap, the small croc was standing on the dry land as it shook its wet body wildly like a post-bathed canine, though scales don’t really fluff about like fur does. With a sigh of discontent, the gator complied to the commands of its trainer.

“We have far more than enough.” the human sighed. He didn’t really feel all that hungry the more he thought about it. The human grabbed the fish by their tail fins both in one hand, and carried them upon his back.

Meeting back where a crazy nut job was swaying back and forth hap hazardously while still laughing in that shrill, disgusting voice. “Whee! Yay to the fishes in the deep blue sea!” e began to ramble yet again. The blood on his face had long since dried, leaving scratch marks, bruises, and scars that may last forever. Those scars would never be enough to compensate for the great scar he left on the people he’s hurt.

Gina had long since returned. With her, she held a splendor of deeply red… berries. Their juiciness seemed to be unable to contain themselves as it flowed its extraneous nature to even the slightest motion.

Gina herself eyed carefully what Phil held in his hand. Fish! Blood covered, deceased fish. Their still present, yet rapidly drying blood sent a chill down her spine. She would be sticking to fruit tonight, thank you very much!

“So,” the Molson boy glanced to the master hunter. “You just eat these raw?” he asked. They had no way to start a fire, and Phil wasn’t about to start playing with rocks and sticks. The flames could spread, and fires could break out. As rare as that was, he would not risk it.

The croc nodded, taking the smaller, red fish from the human’s hand, biting into it with a longing hunger. The human eyed him wearily. With a shrug, he figured he might as well. Worst comes to worst, all he does is hurt himself. Looking at the horned fish in his hand, he figured that sharp horns aren’t very good to eat. Flipping the fish upside down, he took a cautious bite. He’d finish the entire thing, leaving a pile of bones, and a detached horn to decay into obscurity.

After what had to be his oddest, but not worst, meal ever, Phil was stuffed. Fish fat may be healthy, but fat is fat, and well, it makes you fat! His eyes roamed carefully to the psychopathic man, who still sang annoying words and laughed maliciously. “Whee!” his quirky voice rang loud. “Save some for later, hungry boy!”

Phil eyed the fish horn he had discarded on the ground. It’s sharp edge could gut that man cleanly and satisfyingly. ‘No, no more killing!’ he remembered. “Well, we should move out. I say we bring this man to the nearest town and call someone to get this schmuck out of my sight! But how?” he wondered yet again.

It was Gina’s Pokemon to the rescue this time. As more vines seemed to magically spring forth and grow from its sides, they wrapped carefully around the already made roping. Then these vines pulled the man into the air as the Bulbasaur bellowed with might. The crazy man was lifted into the air by his tied arms and legs to sway slightly like a pendulum in a clock. It did not deter his craziness in the least.

“I want to fly like a Wingul,” the nutcase sung merrily as he was heaved into the air. “I wanna fly like a Wingul, my spirit free. Fly like a Wingul cuz they’ll never capture me! I want to FLYYYYY, Whee!”

“Well...” Gina shrugged, ignoring the man‘s odd words. “We may not get to Feltinrel by tonight.” she figured. “I guess we just cover as much ground as possible.” Fact was, after a day like today, sleep would be a welcome escape for the few hours it lasts.

With a sigh, Phil complied as the green dinosaur seemed to easily hold the man by its forestry formed ropes. The path winded It was going to be a LOOOOONG evening. Let alone, getting the sun to set would seem to be a chore. It would, however, be worth the call of justice.

Dilasc

23rd October 2005, 1:08 AM

Soon... soon I will be at the point where I will need to start actually writing new chapters instead of sprucing up old, and cruddy ones. Anyway, here's another one returning to glory.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 5: The Farce Will Be With You, Always

An hour, two hours, not longer than two though, it felt like five centuries awaiting the setting of the mighty solar orb in the sky, but time stands still for nobody.

“How much further?” wondered Phillip as he looked but a tad battered. It was understandable though. H did have one hell of a day after all, and its almost surprising that he hadn’t collapsed sooner. His feel began to drag, dirt, soil, and sand, while grass began to stain the bottom of his shoes.

Gina blinked, thinking for about two seconds. “Hmm…” her mind wandered towards second thoughts. Surely a town was near enough to walk to, and nigh unto night or morning, they could sleep till they never needed rest again. But as yawn after yawn escaped from the very soul itself, sleep was not going to be a patient little pest. “I guess we could rest out here…” she was hesitant. Suffice to say, she had her reasons, and indeed they were good ones.

Truly there was some sorts of evils and dangers lurking in the darkness and shadows of the night. Some evil wrapping its malicious tendrils of vile blasphemy waiting for the oh so right chance to sew discord throughout the land… “And then I’ll make spaghetti curled into a big pile of soap and throw it at the neighbors. WHEE!” Then again, its likely there was no off button on that man, meaning more for them. He surely wasn’t going anywhere, and what better way to scare people away than with your very own restrained, pet psychopath. That poor little dinosaur must have been straining to hold a wack job like Jimmy. It’d hopefully not be long before it would all be over.

Regardless, that would not keep bug bites, cold evening air, and other fearless hazards away from them. “Great!” rang the Molson’s voice, hiding the actual lack of enthusiasm. Truth be told, he did not think, rather, he knew that sleep would not come easy tonight.

The boy’s eyes wandered skyward, gazing at the blackening sky with deep thoughts and intensity. Specs and dots of light shrouded by sky blue dusts broke free of their grasp, visual to all who’d wish to gaze upon the spectrum of sheer and splendorous heaven lights!

It was fortune that a clear opening of soft grass and decent space. It’d be sufficient and serve purpose of resting for the night. It was probably not even ten o’clock yet, but they didn’t care, let the escape of sleep make things better, even with creepy laughter ringing through the ears.

They had no sleeping bags. It’d be sleeping in nature’s mattresses of choice, the soft, yet indubitably to be wet grass, the sand, somewhat rougher a surface, and worse yet it’d be not so comfy as you turn into a sand dune. Not cleaning up afterwards would be dumb and boorish. Then again, there was the soil: Soft and black, this dirt would stain clothes darkly, but it’d be cozy, if not for the fact that plants were busy using it for a growth spot. Indeed, kids on a day like this would nay dare invoke nature’s wrath. There was also those rocks over there where Phil had decided to sit, gazing into the sky. Rough, hardened, and uncomfortable, those were the only possible drawbacks to sitting on the uneven leveled surface of stones. Other than that, nothing would side effect them in waking hour, except of course for a sore back. All in all, grass seemed to have a landslide vote.

Speaking of rocks, or rather Phil sitting on the stone surface, his eyes gazed skyward in a fixation. He felt so alone, so vulnerable… so useless. He hardly heard Gina as she approached the boy, placing a hand gently on his shoulder in concern. “Phillip…” she began, sadly at a shortage of ideas of idle chatter to make time flow faster, and hopefully take his mind off of revenge. This rage was eating him up, and Gina wasn't thrilled about it in the least.

He jumped startled for a second as he felt her hand touch his shoulder. Calm, warm, and not rough at all, his mind was too deep in its thoughts to be pulled out by a mere human hand. Instead, these thoughts would probably pull that hand, and person who’s hand it belonged to, right into it. “Look up into the sky.” he said. He hardly waited for her. He had bottled emotions of fear and torment, and sooner or later, that bottle will realize it is only made of glass, the delicate, crafted works of sand that they are. Sooner or later, it would shatter, letting free the contents they held, or simply causing all to break down. Even with out breaking, a bottle is but a transparent entity, and sooner or later, all would be known before breaking the bottle. “Just do it!” he repeated.

There would be no harm in doing so, Gina complied, gazing the sky with her eyes. The splendor of bright stars was more intense, the haze of summer nights not quite gripping the land in its curse, as more blotches of beautiful light littered the sky, all visible through the open location, thankfully left unblocked by the trees. “It’s… beautiful!” she stared as well.

“It’s terrifying!” Phil said, not even hearing her words. “These lights are larger and further than life can fathom. Some, for all we know, don’t even exist, but their sheer distance means we still see their light.” he sighed, continuing his dramatic monolog. “But they still inch their way to any eyes that can block out, or fortunately be unaware the fearful truths of the grand scheme of the universe.” he took another breath. He needed it! “We are… insignificant, meager. We too will be long gone some day.” a tear formed at his right eye, bringing with the salty waters a sense of unreflecting awareness to the world around him. He gazed at Gina, her brown eyes wide with astonished silence, fear no doubt. It was very understandable. He blinked, glancing to her again. “Uh, I’m sorry.” he frowned. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He wouldn’t dream of scaring her. It’d be wrong. He’d hurt her. He’d never forgive himself if she were hurt. ‘She doesn’t deserve a burden like me.’ he realized, his head, now downcast to the dark ground below him.

“You worry too much.” she began, her voice, timid and hesitant. She took a second to think things through. “One day… we will all be gone. None of what you says will even matter. We wont be around to worry about it.” her voice saddened at that thought. “Just don’t worry.” she smiled, its warm and contagious nature made his mouth shift into a smile as well, though a weak one. The boy stood up at that. “Where are you going?”

The Molson turned to her, “Well, I doubt you’d really like knowing, but I’m going to that tree over there to urinate.” he shrugged as he walked off. As they say, feel natural, nature’s way!

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.” mumbled Gina quietly, a bit flustered to the words he spoke, glad for the darkness and the fact nobody was looking at her.

Yet, there was one other human who heard everything. “Pew love!” spoke a childishly insane voice, ala Jimmy. “How sweet!” he then went on to his malicious giggle, just because it‘d be wrong if he didn’t every damn time!

Clearing the bladder was, well, a tad refreshing for Phil. The details though are nowhere to be found. But as he finished up, it seems the fateful gator decided to approach his trainer. With a quiet, raspy chant of its name, its presence was known to him. The boy’s eyes quickly shifted towards the reptile, deciding he might as well get to know it better. “Hey there.” he smiled, though it was forced and weak. Considering that its not even been twenty-four hours yet and life seemed to suddenly suck spherical objects, it’s a surprise he was still alive.

The Totodile nodded its head but once in acknowledgment. What the heck could the boy say anyway. This was a Pokemon. It seemed to understand any words spoken to it just fine, but he hadn’t even the slightest clue as to what it could possibly say in return. Baffled, Phillip stayed quiet, gazing to the land around him. Unfortunately, in the shadows of the night, he didn’t see much. Seemed as though all that was up and awake was some weird green spiders and a familiar curly tailed rat with purple, ratty fur.

Staring at the creature, it seemed to just go about its daily… or rather, nightly life, as its small legs brought it swiftly across the nightly meadows, breathing fire to light its path… wait a sec! Phil blinked wildly at that one. Red hot flames formed at the tip of the rat’s tooth, carefully wafting around its sharp teeth to light up a good amount of greenery about it, the flames taking on a spiraled shape like a buzz saw, and rotating just as quickly. Were it made of some solid substance, that bladed disc could probably split the planet in half had it been tossed by the one with the might of a god.

“I must be really tired.” Phil mumbled. Funny… he didn’t seem to feel THAT tired. Regardless, he knew that a Rattata couldn’t breath fire. He truly must have been seeing things. He blinked once, but the white hot light was still illuminating the trees to a bright forest green.

After a minute more of the blazing light and illumination, it seemed to disperse, dissipating harmlessly into thin air, in nothing but a cloud of smoke, hidden as it became suddenly shrouded in the darkness of night, their colors complimenting each other as a silent puff of smoke hit the air.

He hardly noticed a small green creature approaching nearby. Hairs, short, yet noticeable grew along its body of chitin. Its yellowy, black striped legs also had tarantula hairs growing meshed about. And adorning its head was a rather wide, flat spike, hardly dangerous in the least.

“Eh? You heard nothing!” the boy grinned as he spoke to the Totodile, not quite looking at the creature, as he began reaching down to stroke gently the scaly skin of the reptilian Pokemon, whom he had learned was not his enemy. Instead, a hairy, filmy skin was what his fingers found, gliding along the surface suspiciously.

It didn’t go long, for after three seconds, a strange pair of pinching teeth bit into his hand, the boy yelped in pain. The spider was scared. Its voice piped up, naturally, the only word spoken was its name as it looked upwards towards the human. It was scared. Its bite was relatively not lethal. No! There would be no poison on the first bite. After all, why waste precious venom on something that may not need it. Suffice to say, there was no way that an average human would know that much.

“Yow!” went Phil, as he retracted his hand quickly. Looking down, he saw a pair of buggy eyes staring back up at him. His hand, punctured with the piercing spider fangs, pulsated like a rapid heart beat, fiercely in pain. Thankfully it didn’t draw blood, though his palm did have two very prominent, and easily noticeable puncture marks. The creature spoke again, words lost to a lack of lingual capabilities. Its dialog simply sounded like ‘Spinirak’.

Suffice to say, the blue gator was standing at the other side of the boy, and it damn sure wasn’t just going to stand around helplessly. Not a chance! It was, after all, a hunter at heart, and the hunter lives for the hunt. In a swift motion, its claws opened as it swiftly leapt to the left around the boy’s legs. As it ended, it leapt again, these razor sharp phalanges swiftly sunk deep into the creature’s flimsy chitin, white liquid oozing at the deep puncture.

Its bug eyes widening, it swiftly proceeded as it opened its insect mouth yet again. Instead of vicious fangs and teeth, a white, dry and sticky string began dancing in the air, wrapping itself around anything it could cling to. It spoke, repeating its own name over and over as its constrictive silk wrapped itself around the defensive Totodile’s waist, pulling its arms to its side as it roped around him.

Poor bug however was outnumbered. Phil wasn’t going to let Totodile fight this and lose. After all, this little bug didn’t stand that much taller than the lad’s foot. At such a fact, why not help our your Pokemon and give it a good kick! Verily, he proceeded to do just that. With a quick motion, his foot went flying straight for the creature’s thorax, breaking its careful web weaving as it unleashed a gasp of pain, yelling loudly its name as it keeled over in pain. It was not really expecting a battle.

“Well then…” the boy trailed off. “Let’s go back and catch some sleep.” he paused, suddenly something snapped. A memory. Yes! A memory of a few days back. It was his sister. She was so excited, talking, laughing and hardly able to contain herself as she gossiped on and on about a grand adventure that was to be. Somehow, all these words seemed useless back then, but now it stirred and swirled like a vicious black hole, letting nothing escape… not even light! Yes, she said something about Pokemon. Something… catch. Yes, it was that word he had just said that made his mind wander to that. Catch… yes. Something about fighting Pokemon. Throw… throw the sphere. The boy was deep at work in his mind.

Phil’s brain raced about as it quickly tried to understand and divulge what had been said that day. Racing, his mind beginning to stretch like putty the size of a mountain, easily circling the earth thrice over due to the elongation potential. Weaken, yes, that was a word she used as well… “HUZZAH!” he knew it now as both mind and mouth seemed to blurt it out in unison!

He reached to his pack to take a pokeball. To throw, or not to throw? That was the question. A creature so brave as to take a swipe at him from nowhere. Yes, he liked that. This thing had spunk! And now, oh man would it be fun to make this creature conform to every command possible. Yes, it would conform to the might and manipulation of man.

He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. He could not believe it. His mind had wandered to malicious intent! Villainous, cruel ideas and treatment. This would not become of his sister were she in his place. He simply HAD to stop thinking, ASAP! Without another game of mental warfare, he quickly grasped to his belt. His fingers rapped against the white of the poke ball twice, and then it was gone from his hand! Smacking against the green arachnid, it opened like a Pac-Man and oh so suddenly suddenly turned the beast into a ray of red light, glowing lightly for a second. Then the light was gone, leaving only a closed ball that seemed to dance vibrantly on the ground. Shaking about, the ball rolled about, smacking against a tree, bouncing one or two inches, landing more hushed than a pin drop as the grass softened its fall. After a short boogie, the ball seemed to have had enough. It was silent and still, save for a slight fading noise.

‘Did I do that?!’ Phil’s eyes widened. Most would be jumping for joy and calling themselves the king of Earth at their first capture. Not Phil though. ‘I… I did it all by myself!’ his hand moved involuntarily, grasping the ball in his fingers as he looked at it in shock. And of course, just to ruin the excitement, his hand reminded him of what it had as it stung to the grasping of the poke ball. He winced!

It was at this point that a rasp voiced crocodile, who had long since bit free of its constraining webs. A sticky, repulsive, and very dry taste lingered in its mouth. “Let’s get some sleep, now.” his restlessness began to show. Maybe now he’d be able to sleep, if not for the stinging pain lingering in the palm of his right hand.

Gina seemed to have long since fallen into a peaceful slumber. ‘Lucky girl. Why do I ruin her life with my presence?’ he sighed, looking at her. Her green hair whipped slightly to the calm breeze, as her head rested gently against the soft grass. He couldn’t see much beyond that however, for the darkness was not where human vision had its potential. Nearby, it seemed even the madman had fallen asleep. Even asleep, he seemed to make himself be known to all. If ever you wanted to hear some loud snoring, then this was where you’d go. ‘At least he’s not TALKING.’ The Bulbasaur, who kept the beast of a man restrained, was also sound asleep, its legs stretched in all diagonal directions around it. ‘I wonder if Pokemon dream… do they ever feel the guilt of life haunt the supposed peace and escape that sleep is said to provide, or is it simply rest for the next day?’

Delving deeper would have to wait. “Here…” he whispered to the Totodile. “I think you’ll rest easier within.” he held out a red ball the little gator had not been with since practically half a day ago. He didn’t wait for an answer as he activated the device on accident, pressing the protruding button that converted the cold blooded creature into pure, infrared energy. “Good night.”

Sleep came easily enough for the lad of vengeance. Visions raced through his dreams. Screams of pure terror, pain, and suffering filled the air like a fast spreading gas as a laughter boomed loudly behind it. The screams were of very different volumes, tones, and species. Rest assured though, none of them belonged to him. He awoke with a startled leap, drenched in sweat from fear. He knew not what had happened in the dream, but he knew what he was doing. He was the one laughing maliciously, like an evil overlord who had conquered the world! Morning dew was still wetly painted amongst the grass as he screamed in fear into the air. For the second time in under twenty-four hours, birds littered the air as a loud voice echoed the woods.

It was still early in the morning, time flies when you’re asleep after all. As he glanced about, Phil was glad that both humans seemed to remain asleep. ‘I wish I could sleep as easily as they can.’ he sighed. He was almost glad. He wouldn’t want to disturb Gina, and as for Jimmy… well, he WAS disturbed, and better left to loud snoring. It was unfortunate however for a certain grass Pokemon, who had been snapped out of wherever animalistic minds wander when slumber calls.

He simply let his head rest back against the wet grass. Surely it was just the peek hour of dawn, there was still time to rest up. Phillip Molson would not find himself back amongst the dream waves that day. He simply rested there, coated and caked in liquid, sweat in the open air, and wet grass on his backside. The chill of the winds didn’t even phase him. The chilling winds around him made him shiver. He did not sleep again that night.

Dilasc

23rd October 2005, 8:17 PM

You’re all in for a treat this chapter! New, made up Pokemon for you to enjoy. Our first featured beast is Lambshade. A word of caution! Leet TV, or channel 1337, speaks in, well, Leet speak. You have been warned, but still read and reply (not that anyone has yet) if you want. No need to wait for the actually NEW chapters to start sending replis and stuff.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 6: It’s All Inside

The gentle chirping of birds brought about the beginnings of a new day. Bugs, and creatures of all kinds sang their lines of the morning calm. Topping it off, a rooster bellowed loudly into the air. Its noise loud and precise. It was as though it were right up in Phil’s face. Truth be known, it WAS in Phil’s face. It was however, no rooster.

“You freaking psycho!” the boy shouted as he was snapped out of his entranced daze of fear, “How… how did you do that?” it was not very often that a human could crow perfectly to the ways of the rooster. It was of course a hopeless endeavor. There’d be no chance in nine thousand hells that dim Jim would answer.

“I’m just set up us the bomb!” he rambled, swaying about like the psycho he was. “Last night I dreamed I was a baby Lambshade! And all my brother Mareep would bleat me up because they were jealous they turned into Flaaffy instead. They was jealous!” Jimmy snickered. It seemed Jimmy was back to normal… well, as far as normal Jimminess goes. He proceeded to laugh like a maniac.

It was nearly fifty minutes longer of stories of his dream. He was a sheep apparently, and whatever Flaaffy and Lambshade were just didn’t seem to matter at the moment. As Jim’s insanity slipped, Phil felt like his would follow. “I swear!” he nearly yelled, standing up in a loud stamp.

This action, would you call it loud, you’d be saying apples were vegetables. But it did send the slightest thump that must have reached Gina somehow, for with a light yawn and stretch, her eyes opened to the morning sun and the dew that coated her. It was as though her hair was the grass itself, despite color tone differences.

“Uh, good morning Gina.” Phil said passively. It was apparent that good morning was truly not the way describe the Molson boy’s day, unless it were opposite day.

“Morning…” she yawned again as the sun sent its warmth upon her. “Well, I’m all soaked…” she whined, the morning dew sending a chill with the light breeze. “Are you ok Phillip?” her eyes came to his face. Women’s intuition perhaps it was. Regardless of how, she noticed all the redness in his face, especially around and in his eyes.

“Uh… I’m fine, really.” he spoke quickly. He didn’t want to hurt her, to scare her, or do anything to make her feel bad. His mind stretched. He did not want to get any deeper into the conversation. He had to change subject, ASAP! “How about we reach town first.” he sighed, noticing a grayness painting into the blue sky. “Looks like a few nasty clouds are headed this way.” he pointed out, as hiding behind leaves and trees was a sky painted over with splotches of the color gray... A dark gray. The gray seemed to form about, though not too quickly.

Gina too, scanned the sky briefly, nodding in agreement. “Very well.” she shrugged, looking over to the verdant reptile with a slight smile “Good morning.” she greeted. A nod and slight smile was the human’s response, followed by the creature declaring its species to the world.

More clouds seemed to darken the morning skies. “Lets go then.” Phil’s mind was far from reality however, as thoughts vast and many clouded his thoughts more quickly and thickly than those in the sky. Memories of the horrors felt in his most recent slumber filled his mind, vying to control his every action.

“Weeeeell… All around the blueberry bush, a Mankey chased a sneasel! The Mankey knew a battle was won. Aaaand Cross Chopped the Sneasel!” Jimmy’s insanity rang into the Molson’s ears, snapping the lad out of the craziness his mind had nearly tugged him to. “This has been brought to you all by Grassers Leech Seed Surprise, with the yummy taste of life drain!” he shouted as his tied up body swayed slightly within its vinery of confines. Indeed, everyone was indeed going to ‘go nuts’ if they had to keep hearing that man’s insanity, and Phil already seemed to be along the path of the nutcase.

He shuddered as Jimmy’s words rambled on in the form of spoofs based on everything commercialized to just about everything around. ‘I should have killed him…’ he sighed, ‘I’m just a coward!’ his head went downcast as his eyes trailed about the worn dirt roadway. If rain was indeed the forecast, mud, cold air, and water would make life simply suck even more than it already did. As far as Phil was concerned, suicide wouldn’t even be enough to make an escape from it all. No, he still had much to accomplish in the world of the living.

It may have been hours of walking. There was no more sunlight, and very little blue that seemed to inch through. Surely, water would be fast and furious as it fell to the ground at a rapid rate. “I think we’re almost there.” encouraged Gina, as plants and tree branches whipped about wildly in the growing winds.

Phil gritted his teeth! He oh so wanted to rip out his lungs on the spot. This… vile murder, scum beyond scum, was he really worth the molecular carbon intake that he happened to be? Would not the entire world be better off without this man? Were he sent to prison, taxes would be sent to support his existence. Despicable worm that he was, he couldn’t even have the decency to be scared for his miserable life! There would never be any complete vengeance over this sadistic moron! ‘I’ve failed!’ his mind rang out. ‘I failed my sister.’ he had not exacted revenge after all. Catching the killer would never be enough.

But… would she WANT him to kill? Phil’s stomach churned at the controversial thought of it. She wouldn’t. Do two wrongs make it right? There was no turning back time now. She was gone… gone forever! Now all he could do was live her dream.

Gina didn’t seem to be quite as disturbed by everything. Her eyes seemed wide and curious, her pace calm yet steady, her mind, no doubt, freer of worries. Her voice seemed a guiding, and soothing touch on his existence. She seemed to care about him, as odd as it seemed. ‘She doesn’t deserve my misery!’ Oh how he’d love to have her presence, with her attractive green hair… ‘Wait, what am I saying?’ he shook his head ever so slightly. He perked his head up slightly, the sight of a building loomed before him through thick trees. Wait a second!

“We’re here, at last!” sighed Gina in relief, catching some time to breath as they stood at the edge of the city limits. Indeed it was QUITE a city. Out of the forest and into a jungle of masonry and concrete. Indeed, it would be quite a populated place as towers stretched the sky now deeply and darkly gray.

The fact that a man with a bruised face was hanging by a the vines of a Bulbasaur and being carried through a busy roadway was no big deal. After all, in Feltinburg, the mature community was celebrating their annual Bondage week. “B, D, S, M!” yelled Jimmy, his rhythm akin to that of a cheerleader’s, “I don’t know just what I am! One two three four, I can’t find no better *****!”

“Where should we go now?” asked Phil, doing his best to ignore the one he wished was not alive. unsure of where on earth safe havens could possibly be for travelers in large mazes like this. Feltinburg seemed liked it’d be one heck of a place to live, even with sarcasm behind those words.

Gina let her lips curve, forming a slight yet confident smile. “We should go to the Pokemon Center!” she exclaimed with confidence.

“Ok…” Phil trailed, nodding for no reason other than the fact that there are joints in the neck. ‘What the heck is that?’

The look of the unsure though made him quite a bit easier to read than popup books for three year olds. After all, what harm in being wrong? Gina, spoke again, explaining things about he ways of the ‘Pokemon Center.’ How people would go there to rest, and heal their Pokemon, for free. It was a short explanation to say the least, as her eyes roamed the roadways. “Say! That’s it over there.” she pointed.

Indeed it seemed safe a place. Quaint, and perhaps, hopefully cozy, it seemed to stand out amongst other buildings with their asbestos and dry wall. It even had the word running across the rooftop in large, bold letters just to give its presence away.

It was sheer contrast to the city where it seemed to be situated. The hustle and bustle of life would probably never cease whether day, night, or apocalyptic end of all humanity, for the crowds were large enough to mow down the entire populace of China. As the humans and their lunatic prisoner were swept in, it felt like “Not going anywhere for a while? Grab a Stinkers! Icky Sludge Bombs, nasty Toxics, and everything smells like poop! Stinkers! Why wait! WHEE!” and crowds didn’t seem to back away. After all, he was just a nameless face in the crowd. “Mmmm… Stinkers! Makes me wanna call on Koffing!” he then laughed. His shrill agony drowned out by bustle, and rustle of the crowds.

Suffice to say, Jimmy did have a few proper brain cells that could react to the world around him, and though bonds were too tough, he knew just how to thrust to the ground in just such a way to unleash the Pokemon from its glorious confines. Suffice to say, his reasons were heavy in the stupidity department. After all, he’d nay be hanging by his arms and legs possibly if he had called upon it sooner. In an instant, he moved with such a force that if it weren’t for the clanging of metal on concrete, he’d splatter his bladder in a splash of red and colors most vile against the gray of the cement roadway.

Instead of red blood, there was red light. Infrared, a familiarity that meant that a Pokeball had been used. A glowing beam sprang into the air inches above the tidal waves of crowded townsfolk. As the infrared lights died, a creature with a surface rough of skin remained, and the rainbow spectrum of colors went to the complete antonym… ultraviolet. Truth be known, its skin was not made of light at all, but it was purple, and shaped quite a symmetrical sphere, which seemed to float in the air though tiny pores formed bumps and a rough surface, where tiny orifices seemed to let seep gasses of all varieties. Its weird shape nay even half as enigmatic as the fact that its body floated, defying laws of gravity and aerodynamics. This scoundrel of science had a face that seemed as forever smiling as its nutcase trainer, but its mind was far from in a happy place. Then again there was contrast upon this criminal to scientific law, for just below its face, a shape of a skull, and crossed bones below that. The ideal choices of a pirate’s black and scary flag. A sense of doom and sadness seemed to emanate from this figure.

With a sigh, it looked about. The purple sphere’s life was a sham. How it despised and feared the human who had it leashed, but never would it wish to return to the wilds. It was far too gone from that life now. Its life was now for that amongst humanity, and despite the odd and lacking style of love, affection, and care received, the spherical one would never return to amongst its kin in freedom. Something was pulling at its sickly, gas filled heart towards the ways of humanity and travel. As it looked down towards its human commander, its eyes widened, and would have had its mouth wide in shock, had it the facial muscles to muster more than a smile.

The human below, crazy, and roped up, looked at the round purple stinker. “SMOG!” he shouted. His yells ignored by the many as it was drowned out by nearly a billion other voices, but not to the gas ball. It knew well its commander’s voice. You could stick the entire universe in a room and have everyone shout something at the same time, but this little Koffing would easily spot the psycho even if his voice was drowned out. Naturally, hearing such a simple command like such was easy to follow.

In short time after the order, bodily pores and ever smiling mouth let loose thick green clouds of wretchedness. Their thickness was so heavy, it could break a knife, as it clouded up and expanded rapidly. It didn’t take long for the green billowing clouds to make people begin to clamp hands and fingers around their nasal entryways. Like a tidal wave made of human pigment, the ground thundered with the running of clomping footwear. People scattered about, running over each other, making mayhem and all around there was chaos, all over some cloudy stink disrupting the flow of city life. It was a mere taste of what industry will one day do to them all.

Even Phillip Molson was on the run. That is of course, until he saw Jimmy’s hanging, and bound up. How difficult would it be to spot a Bulbasaur constricting arm and leg movement of a crazy man. It was amazing how separated he and the Meshing lass were separated “Gina!” he spoke quickly. He had not been separated from her, most fortunately, as he quickly grasped her arm. “Look!” he spoke to her as he grabbed her attention. She obeyed!

It was a hell of a sight to behold. A purple, floating landmine smiling carefree, shrouded by the clouds of nasty carcinogens. Below it, there was Jimmy! His psychopathic ways as he dangled within his confines, never flinching, wheezing, choking or suffocating to the unhealthy air. It would be assured that his lungs would be blacker than his heart by the time this was all over, and his heart would get blacker too. “Oh, you make them scream and run! Whee!” he cheered. It was, to be honest, the love relationship between Jimmy and his spherical beast. And the watcher of the convict, the verdant dinosaur, seemed to be struggling to the bad odors. It was, after all, sane enough to feel the pain.

“Bulbasaur!” shouted Gina, garnering the attention of the Pokemon that was indeed hers. Indubitably, its attention snapped forth in a heartbeat. Hearing its mistress, the creature bolted in he direction of the sound, as a purple gasbag ceased its reign of plague the second his lord was carted off. It would not lose him yet. There were no alternatives! “This way!” Gina continued, her finger pointing in the direction of the Pokemon center, which was not far at all.

In but a minute, the trek to the Pokemon center was complete. Few people braved the billowing smog outside, so the streets were emptied. The smog aloe probably drained Phil of all his breath, leaving him exhausted and miserable. Upon entering the Pokemon center however there was merely… salvation! Yes, from rustle, hustle, and bustle, this place was a heavenly contrast. Fresh air conditioners provided a much needed salvation to the lungs. The place was very sparsely filled, contrasting that of the city with probably less than a hundred people in sight. Heck, there probably weren’t even half that many people. The walls seemed well kept and maintained, glistening with seemingly unpeeled paint, and clean tiled floors and ceilings. In short, this place was a salvation!

It wasn’t every day though that dead tired kids with a man tied up while he laughed without a care in the world entered your house, was it? Its almost ensured that this would garner attention of a helpful nature. “Dear me!” came an effeminate voice, followed shortly by the presence of the woman who owned it. This seemed to be a person of caring nature. A woman of pink hair, and perhaps endless hospitality in need of no introduction, except perhaps for a name we all know well. “Are you children ok?” she asked. There was no doubt this woman was anything but hope of surviving until tomorrow. Her sweet voice would either make you feel at great peace, or be nice enough to make you vomit.

Phillip coughed and wheezed. He had been doing so for a bit now, all dizzy with bad toxins plaguing and darkening the bloody airways of his inner body. “Need fresh air!” he spoke, his words constantly disrupted by toxicity empowered coughing. He really didn’t feel like telling a long winded story when he was feeling… well, winded.

It was hearty hospitality, as the boy and girl went to sit by the couch to relax. Phil grunted breathlessly, hacking up a blackened grossness of phlegm. Disgustingness aside, there was a garbage bin by his side. The wooden cylindrical object was covered by a bag of flimsy plastic. Its purpose to keep the wooden woven meshing clean.

“That’s disgusting!” retorted Gina in repugnant disgust. She too had been coughing uncomfortably as well. She didn’t seem to have it as badly as the Molson boy though, or so you’d think. In an instance, she stood up. Had she gills, they’d have been green. “Uh, excuse me!” she spoke quickly, dashing off for whatever form of sanitary vomit holes could be found.

This left Phillip alone. Alone to mull about life, and how rotten everything had become. The need for blood, his gone yet unforgotten sister, lying cur Mr. Brenetmos the attractive Gina, dastardly insane Jimmy, a misfortunately accused Totodile, heck his mind even wander towards his recently caught Spinirak which he knew nothing about. ‘Damn it! Why me?’ he wondered. Would life be worth it? Would it not just be better to die now? All these thoughts plagued him. It felt like death was indeed the best answer.

That is of course until he noticed a television hanging from a shelf on the wall. “And now back to $c003ee D00d!!!11 pn 1337 +V!” spoke the television as all sorts of numbers and improperly cased letters roamed. Zeroes, and the number 1337 seemed to dominate the screen. Surely, it’d be enough to fry a genius’ brain… unless of course they were a computer genius.

This was channel 1337. Where things are spelled wrong and spoken wrong because its funny that way. It was one of Phillip’s favorite channels too. ‘Whoever did that for me, thank you!’ he sighed with wheezed relief. If not forever, then let his mind be off the throngs of painful reality for just but a while.

The TV began to speak again. “L31k +h1$ 1$ 1337!11!1ONE. J1nXX0rz!!11” went an odd bum in a green shirt as suddenly the screen frazzled out. A number in bold font and bright, laser green promptly made itself visible in the lower right corner. It clearly meant one thing. CHANNEL CHANGE! The boy quickly looked about to find and bemoan the perpetrator. He would never get to it though, for in a cascade of green hair, he saw who it was. It was Gina, with a simple television remote in her hand.

As he began to yell the word ‘Hey’ at her, she interrupted him. “Oh c’mon. That channel is bad for you. Besides, I want to watch ‘Saving Private Raikou.’” she said. “It’s a good film. Part of the long and interesting autobiography of a military man named Noldin Spacro.” she decided to explain for the sake of conversation, “Its called ‘Behind the Spacro, Meaning of War’ and it’s a big hit still. It seems however, that commercials were still not completed with their brevity yet.

On the screen was seen a few poorly drawn cartoon men. Merely lines of ink on a white background, they too had no coloration. A man with a heavy accent spoke. “Vonderful!” it was clear that some of his V’s were actually W’s. “Granbull Enagy Drink!” his accent poorly done seemed not to remove the meaning of the words spoken. “Don’t you know? Granbull gives you Ving Attacks!” finished the no so funnily accented man as the commercial came to an end.

“Yea. I’m sure the story is wonderful!” Phillip spoke in sarcasm. What did he want to hear about war right now? Nothing! Blood, violence, and politics all meant nothing. The Molson boy coughed again. “Well, have fun!” he stood up. He needed to cool down. Now deprived of the brain rotting salvation of R0XX0R3$+ channel around, Phil needed something to ease his painful existence. ‘I need a drink!’ He didn’t mean alcohol.

Dilasc

25th October 2005, 6:08 AM

I decided to put in another interlude here, simply to get me back into the swing of actual writing. Another peak into the mysterious Orbital Occult. Bleh, there’s a legendary here too, but I have no idea how good a job I may be doing writing legendaries. Replies on the subject would be helpful by far.

Dust to Deceit

Interlude 2 - We Might Be Gnats

A yellow haired man glanced to the sky above. Many stars glistened before his sight, bright, yet partly distorted from the summer’s haze. The moon was up there too, shaped like a fingernail, a mere sliver of its full, unchanging glory.

To think, man once dreamed of the moon and stepping foot on such a dead, and lifeless surface. Now, in Arthur Landon’s mind, the moon was a waste of man’s time. ‘Gretkan is out there... somewhere in this galaxy.’ He smiled at the thought. Gretkan was his dream, his salvation. It was a salvation for all who wished to follow. ‘Man or beast, all will be welcome to Gretkan We will be free.’

“Freedom is to each his own. Most would rather remain safe.” A booming voice stated from above the yellow haired man.

Vast wings flapped loudly, kicking up much dirt from the nearby hills. Landing behind Arthur was a beast that many would only dream of meeting face to face. It’s mere presence lit up the night sky around it, showing its white, smooth skin, and long wings that looked to have their own fingers at the tips. Its face glared sternly at the human beside it, the blue and black providing the beast with an almost intimidating appearance. “It is unsafe out there, human.” Its voice did not move as it spoke, but its words were quite audible for anyone within a good few hundred feet to be able to hear.

Its voice was not loud, but something about its words were commanding, as though they spoke to the mind Arthur however, did not tremble at the sight, and the immense power he felt from this creature. “Lugia...” he said quietly, the word felt like acid on his tongue as he spoke it.

“You don’t sound surprised to see me.” the legendary beast asked in a falsely disappointed tone. Dare it be said, a godly beast had nearly sounded sarcastic, but mostly insulted. After all, Lugia was a beast that was feared and respected at the same time, and it was well aware of its power and prestige. “It is not every day that someone gets to chat with a legend such as myself.”

“You are small and unimportant to me, no matter how self-important you are.” the man replied in an honest tone. “Do you honestly think you can sway me from my dream? You make it sound like what I seek is evil!”

Lugia’s gaze was deep, almost concerned. “Evil?” it asked, shaking its head. “No! There is no good and evil. There is merely misguidedness!”

“You cling to your desires to control us.” Arthur replied, calmly, yet obviously quite displeased. “You fear that there may be powers greater than your own. Powers that are not even physical!” He paused, the thrilling intensity of his dramatic tone caught up to him as he waited for a second. “You fear science... knowledge! In short, you fear intelligence!”

Lugia replied a tone worthy of a legendary. “You know well that your heart thinks it is in the right place. I am glad you are not malicious, but you must know where your place is in the circle of life. You are not a god. You are human, and must remember that if you seek gateway to another planet, you will ruin that planet’s development.”

“I have made careful preparations to avoid causing unrest. Gretkan is a big planet. It is so big, that you cannot fathom how vast it is!”

The legend did not care for what the Occult leader was saying. “You must not disturb Vortexaco! It’s flatulent portals are not toys to be used for avaricious ambition.”

Arthur’s eyebrow went upwards, and his head tilted downwards ever slightly. With a single cough, he replied to the beast of legend. “Such large, and inaccurate words. Anyone, anyone at all who seeks to expand humanity to Gretkan is welcome to join us.” His brown eyes fixated upon the eyes of the legendary.

“Yes...” Lugia replied, but it did not get to say any more than that as the yellow haired man interrupted.

“Do you know what kind of falsehoods, lies, and heresy my followers are convicted of!” Arthur asked in an honest tone. “Hell, our last leader was executed for a crime that doesn’t even exist! That man was my friend! Do you know how important we are to astronomers and how helpful we can be to shuttle launches?”

“I... am aware.” Lugia replied, its tone honest and understanding. “Regardless of these facts, I regret to inform you that we may clash with hostilities if you continue your crusade!”

This was hardly a shock for Arthur Landon to hear, but it was not pleasing in the least. The fact that he and his men may perish at the hands of legendary beasts was unnerving. To see his dreams shattered by genocide sent a deathly frightening chill up his spine. There was only one question on the man’s mind. “Why?”

Lugia did not reply at first. After a few seconds of delay, the legend spoke in its telepathic voice once again. “I cannot tell you why!” it replied. “As cliched as it may sound, to you humans, you have to find out for yourself.”

Arthur nodded his head. “You’re right.” he replied earnestly. “That certainly sounds like a cliche.” With that, he grunted audibly. “Still, if it’s violence that you seek, the Occult will not back down! You are after all, just a Pokemon.” He paused, holding his slightly wrinkled hand up, with his pointer finger in front of his face. “Just a single Pokemon. Even you alone have your limits.”

“Think what you will!” replied Lugia with its booming telepathic voice. “I must depart for now. We will meet again, human.” With emphasized tone on the word human, the beast’s mighty wings flapped loudly, and the white legendary departed from the hilly grounds, and soared off into the night sky. “Hopefully, you will come to understand me!” Within seconds, Lugia was gone!

‘You’re a gnat, Lugia! You are a gnat who thinks that you're a god!’ Arthur’s mind concluded. “You are nothing but an interference! A disruption to the endless hope for the future!” Lugia however, was already gone, and heard none of his words.

Dilasc

26th October 2005, 5:00 AM

No funky comments yet. I’m only going to post my new chapter. But I do feel disappointed at the lack of readers. What’s wrong? I don’t bite unless you give me permission, and even then I think it’s just a bit too kinky for my tastes. Anyway, if I have any true blue readers, would anyone be curious to know just what Pokemon are, or rather, aren’t in Kertonmel. Of course, to let me know, you need to use the reply box, and hit send! If I get enough curiosity, you’ll have your list of Pokemon you can’t find, except for waters, in which case, it’s vice-versa since there’s very few in Kertonmel. Anyway, on to a revised story. Keep your eyes peeled for other Pokemon made by yours truly, and if you ask, I may just post statistics on their basic statistics.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 7: In Chef’s Clothing

Water, as plaintive as it seems, this clear liquid was everything. In spite of its transparency, this liquid was everywhere, and never was there enough to drink! Suffice to say, the glistening cup before Phillip Molson could have been concocted in a mixture with rat poison and dry wall would not deter his desperation. How long had it been since his last intake of refreshing liquid? Perhaps about a day, and he was parched.

It was here, at the Pokemon Center’s cafeteria, that Phil would quench his extreme need for liquid fill. Much akin to one at schools, there were trays for food and food aplenty. But unlike school, people seemed to give a damn for fine polishing and nay but a few scraps of paper littered the floor. Heck, even the undersides of the tables were sparkly clean. You couldn’t even find as little a wad of once chewed gum… under any table if you went out of your way and looked. The food didn’t look half bad either. In fact, he’d be certain that most of the food wasn’t going to crawl out your stomach through any orifices, not until fully completed digestion anyway.

It almost made him wonder if he was still in this huge, polluted city. Truth be known, he would have, were it not for the window that showed torn down apartments and skyscrapers aplenty as all was pelted down by loud droplets of rainwater, which only piled up his parched need for liquid in the soul and throat!

The boy parted his arid lips as the glass of icy cold transparency quickly went to work. In an instant, the dry was washed out in a splash of cool, rejuvenating salvation! The icy water sending a slight chill of relief through his body. There was no time to savor the taste! The sand in his throat was long without aquatic touch, making it almost foreign to have it again. It would not matter though, for after many more cups of glistening, sparkling purity, a relief would wash over at long last. The glass even felt refreshing to his punctured palm, though returning to normalcy, it still stung, and badly!

After all that much water, he did none other than, you guessed it, he sighed with icy cold air in greatly over exaggerated relief. If it were life on the stage as he so earned, icy clouds of dry ice would spew forth. Like any overdose of liquid though, one thing is for certain. ‘I gotta find the bathroom!’ and with his bladder full of water, he was off from the graciously heavenly cafeteria… to excrete liquids he seemingly just put in.

As he was pissing off, Gina was buckled down, deeply immersed with the movie onscreen. There, on that screen of glorious radiation eye poisoning lights was a man of great muscle. With hair of dirt blonde, and muscles aplenty, you could tell he was somebody you thanked your lucky stars for if he was on your side, especially in the battlefield of war. As this scene seemed set, a voice of narration seemed to dominate. ‘Good buddy Surge always seemed to have a positive attitude, or at least, as positive as could be when you’re bathed in the blood of your enemies.’ The big man, Surge, unleashed from his side none other than the red and white glory of none other than a Pokeball, which unleashed in its common beam of red… another Pokeball? No, this thing had hands, and arms! Muscular arms, biceps that would rival that of the man who released the beast were it not for the size difference. The body of the creature was spherical, with an upper body of pure red, and dark grayish-white on its lower half. Its face was that of smirking eyes an a well pronounced mouth with teeth that blended with the white of its stomach. Its arms seemed to take on one of these colors too as they extended from the color split between both halves. The left was of the gray-white, and red was that of the other arm. These arms were raging with unnaturally strong muscles.

‘Ah, Ion! It was Surge’s best, and bravest pokemon. You probably think that is some Electrode with arms. That is indeed what an Ion is, or at least, it is what it’s evolved from. With arms built for fighting, it was a hell of a nasty thing to go up against, especially with an even more explosive way of life. It was,’ the narrator sighed, ‘and man oh man did Surge cry the day that brave Ion passed away… but that’s another story.’ the narration seemed to end at that, picking an oddest of times to roll for more commercials.

Gina sighed and stretched her arms. The movie was pretty good so far, no questions asked. After all, every single volume in the series was stellar. For a man with a gun, he sure was emotional to be able to write about his whole military life. ‘The Spacronicles’, as it was called, was simply a breathtaking series of biographical adventures and they were Gina’s favorite. She lived by them, the story of a killing leading to the need for more blood as the powers of lust contort his very soul, making him need to feed his eyes, eye candy if you will, in the form of crimson blood. He craved it! It was a drug. There was never any suffering, just a quick, bloody death! It would then end in a painfully scary realization of the murderous monstrosity he’d become when… well, that’s a secret.

It is because of these books that Gina had been against killing, no matter how bad a person may be. Death was not the answer. People are people after all, and everyone needs a chance. If killing in cold blood was allowed in war, then people could become uncontrollable savages of doom who kill just because they had the craving. It’s as bad as cigarettes, but it kills thrice as much, given the chance. That was one of the morals of ‘The Spacronicles.’

Over an hour passed, completing in full the movie ‘Saving Private Raikou’ proved to be as flawless as the story it was taken from. Time enough was this to revive from carcinogen, travel and fatigue in luxury. But while kids recuperated, the lady of hospitality seemed to take time to talk to a certain lovable nutcase. “Now Jimmy,” began the lady of the pink, “I dunno what you’re up to today, but you’ve gone out getting yourself in a heap of trouble. I need you working in the kitchen!” Fact was, she hadn’t heard what the heck happened out there. “Do explain yourself…”

The setting was simple. It was the boss’ office, and lady of hospitality was indeed the boss around here. An office desk with papers scrambled about with paperwork to be done. The life of a nurse really was complex. This was Jimmy she was speaking to. Foolish, uncontrollable, psychopathic Jimmy. “Hey pretty lady! You have pink hair! Whee!” he was still himself, only now he was untied. He was a danger to all once again.

The nurse blinked nearly five times in but a second before she replied to that, suffice to say a bit red with both anger and flustering embarrassment. “Uh…” She began. How on earth does one acknowledge that sort of answer? Heck, fact be known, that wasn’t even an answer, that was just whack! That’s right, whack! Freaky! Insane, senseless. Something was different about the Jimmy she knew. “Where on earth did you get all those nose rings, and eye rings… and any other rings?” Something was wrong! Jimmy seemed different. It was, unexplainably, rest assured that this was Jimmy, but he was INSANE, or so he seemed.

“Oh nursey babe!” came a rather familiar voice from beyond the door. Without even a polite knocking warning, the doors opened, revealing… Jimmy? Odd, he looked just like… Jimmy, but there was no rings mutilating his body, and he was dressed like a chef. In puffy white chef hat, and white chef apron that read ‘Kiss the Cook’. “I’ve finished up some spicy Squirtle Turtle Soup with Bellsprout powder seasoning!” he declared in his Jimmy voice, following it up with the oh so nerve raking laughter that many have come to love or hate.

“Sounds good.” went the dark-pink haired woman. “I’ll be glad to help myself to some too if I may.” she smiled as the pierce bodied Jimmy still sat in front of her as the door shut itself. Typical of this situation though, the nurse of course opened the door. “Jimmy!” she shouted, dashing into the finely tidy walls of the hallway, scattering papers from her desk as she went.

“Oh hello, nursey babe!” went the chef-wearing version of psycho. “You sure like hassling with my psycho half brother don’t you.” he grinned, providing the laugh that made famous for chapters now. “I do hope you remember that my family is a lot like yours.” the grin faded not, though his voice sounded solemner than anything the psycho could ever muster.

She knew the story, not well, but she indeed knew it. The legacy of Jimmy was an interesting one. Unlike her own Joy Luck Nurse Club story, Jimmies were diverse. Indeed they all looked alike, all using their Jimmy laugh, happy nature and tendency to outburst the word “WHEE!” No two Jimmy were ever identical in occupation.

“Right… how COULD I forget?” the nurse known as Joy remarked, rolling her eyes, shrouding horribly from the embarrassment of the mistake she had made with sarcasm. Something however didn’t seem right all of the sudden. An eerie sense of wrong loomed in the air. “Wait, what did you say he was?” her eyes were wide pure terror. If Jimmy had said what she thought he did…

In a burst of speed though, a pile of papers scattered into the hallway as a loud, nerve-wracking laugh echoed menacingly as it lingered on the ears of all who were unfortunate enough to hear it. “WHEEEE!” the psycho’s voice rang and lingered as he dashed like a loony as he kicked open an unshut door.

Gina leapt from the couch she had long been resting on and literally hit the moon and beyond. “Oh no!” she choked on her words in fear, as her knees trembled beneath her. Jimmy was free, and running rampant. It was no doubt that he’d cause untold amounts of mischief.

“Ooh! Girlie!” smiled the ring faced whacko. “WHEE!” he shouted as he launched himself towards her like a homing missile without recourse. His face still maintained its unwavering giddiness. Potted plants tipped over, leaving fresh black soil to spill to the tiled floor. “We can have fun!”

His grasp was firm. He was, after all, a crazy person, and you should never hit a crazy person! He giggled in his insanely unsurprising way, grinning wildly with eyes that stared deep into nothingness as they stared down the grappled girl. “Whee!” he repeated loudly and happily.

Peace and quiet. It may have been a public bathroom, which not even the best of housecleaning could maintain, but it was quite an empty place. Molson boy seemed to enjoy simply lazing around with his pants down in a locked bathroom stall. As odd as it seemed, it was… relaxing. For once, he was truly alone, and he savored every drawn out second of ‘me time.’ For a few hours now, Phil enjoyed nothing more than silence disturbed only by dripping waters and running pipes. After all, there was no such thing as complete and utter silence. If not the noises around you, then surely the ringing within his head would have been the disturbance instead. A ringing that would irk any who dared listen to it long enough.

Suffice to say, nothing is eternal. It would not have mattered much what the noise was, if it were anything but that incessantly aggravating laugh. Oh how it turned his brain into a vulnerable ball of bruised slop. It would haunt the poor lad for the rest of his life, knowing that his dear sister had been tormented by that sick man with his sickening personality. It was a mystery to himself why he let that man live! Better to spill his blood and end him now than let him get to a possible escape. There’d be no lingering pain, just a quick and bloody death. Yes, bloody. The thought made Phillip almost smirk until he realized he was almost salivating. His head snapped upwards as he blinked with a shudder. This was a nightmare, and he wanted to end the pain, before it would end him.

It was in this anger that he almost forgot to catch himself with his pants down. Worse yet, he was about to run out of the stall just like that, definitely something that’d make matters even worse. It was fortunate for all that he did remember, even the decency to follow up with the ways of the toilet flush, and round and round the water spun, a cyclone of icky water drained to the sewers beyond, directionally swirling at the whims of the hemisphere.

It only made matters worse that he boy didn’t take the time to wash his hands. Gross! This was only further complicated with the sight before him as he opened the door. There, standing beside the hospitality lady of pink in the hallway, was Jimmy! He was without his rings or bruises, but that didn’t matter, he was still the same loony, and would die all the same, “Hello Jimmy!” his teeth were clenched through his words. “Having fun?” he smiled, still with teeth clenched.

“Uh…” began the cooking man with confusion. “What?” he asked. The man was a bit afraid, after all, the boy did disperse an air of uncomforting danger.

“Do not play dumb with me!” roared the boy. It was time to restrain his criminal once and for all. For his second time ever on his quest of shame, he opened a Pokeball. In a flash of infrared formed six hairy yellow legs attached to a hairy spider body. “Uh…” the human boy began in stammering confusion. He had no idea what this creature was called, or how on earth to command an attack.

It only made matters worse when the arthropod stared back up at the human boy with a sad look of horror. HE had kicked it. He used his accursed human technology and trapped the poor spider in the Pokeball. It couldn’t of happened at a worse time for the poor spider, for it was on its way to mate at long last in its short life. Oh so many female spiders awaited the poor little creature. Now, he was nothing but an angry spider with an overflow of sexual frustration. There would be no easy way to relieve this tension, thanks in part to the spiders odd build that’d make grasping a tad tough. It instead resorted to stringing up the face of the human that ruined his simple hormonal life with a tear in each eye. If he was to be a broken spider, he might as well make things worse for the human who dared start it all.

“Hey!” Phil yelled as string began to form, grabbing the spider forcefully with both hands. “What the hell is your problem?” His only response was the razor swish of white fangs. From the tip of one of the pointy appendages, a clear liquid seemed to hang on the edge. It was a tinted liquid, that of a brightly colored shade, though the definite color behind the tint was a bit hard to decipher. ‘Venom! This twit’s trying to kill me!’ his mind went as he tossed the spider to the ground in rage, disrupting its focus. He then proceeded to grasp it again. “Listen here you little dipstick,” the Molson boy’s voice rang with angry authority. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but if you EVER try and bite me again, I will rip off all your legs and let you suffer by not letting you die!” his voice was not stable, as he hissed the words while his lower lip quivered in total madness. It was as though you’d expect eye twitching any second now. “Ya know what next?” he taunted the poor bug mercilessly, “When that’s done, I’m gonna laugh and laugh and laugh! I’ll tell others to laugh at you too, you pitiful slime!” his intimidating tone rang deep into the little creature. The human seemed to have it in for him, as fear kept the small critter in check.

It seemed that he practically forgot that there were people about. “Uh, kid. You need to learn some respect.” Following that, the chef unleashed the trademark family laugh, which reminded Phil that both and the nurse lady were standing in front of him this whole time. It was all Phil needed to snarl again.

“Stop that god damn laughing!” the angry Molson boy roared as he stamped his foot at the ground. “Now…” the Molson boy continued loudly in anger. “Use your webbing on that ugly one who dared to speak!” he commanded the spider forcefully. “This is the end Jimmy! When you get to hell, I’ll be glad of the precious time we’ll not share this same plane of corporeal existence.” yes. That was a thought. It’d be heaven in itself to purge life of this scourge to his existence. For whatever likely few years it would be, this short time would be worth an eternity sharing hell with that dastardly laughing menace. There was no response tough from the spider as it stared at the boy, tilting its head with no understanding of the words told. “Damn it! Use that stringy stuff before I squash you under the soles of my shoes!” he demanded again. There was nothing. All that had come to pass was the sight of widening black spider eyes, and six quivering yellow arachnid legs.

Chef Jimmy unleashed a sigh from his lips, as his voice filled with a seriousness. “I know what you’re thinking.” he took a pause, holding his arms out for a moments peace. “Trust me though, when I say right now that you’re looking for my half brother.” he spoke, fear on his face, lest he face the deadly venom of a spider’s bite.

“It’s true.” chimed in the lady of the pink. Her face turned stern. “If you dare attack my chef…” she stood protectively in front of the man, as if to take a bullet meant for him. “then I wont let you sty at my Pokemon Center.” her arms folded in front of her chest calmly. “Its bad enough you seem to treat your Spinarak like a slave and with no value to its life!” she had seen the whole thing. “I hope you know love goes loads further than idle threats!” she sighed as she ended her speech.

“Lady, my threats will not be staying idle!” the boy said with a loud shout of assurance.

“Well neither will mine.” the woman retorted. “You won’t be welcome here!” her arms were folded, as all seriousness seemed to linger in every word. Her eyes were cast away. “I will heal your Pokemon after we catch that maniac, but I will demand that you leave right afterwards unless you act more humane!” It almost sounded as though the woman was about to cry.

In a mere second, Phil bolted back from the world of lusted blood and revenge! Kicked out! No! He needed to stay here for a night! He was tired, battered, and moody. He’d go insane if he couldn’t take but a brief moment for relaxation in a bed. Surely there was nowhere else he could go. If he didn’t have this time to rest, he would surely die! His heart sank at the thought. ‘I’ve failed my sister. I guess when the hells freeze over during visiting day, I’m sure I’ll be allowed to see my sister. I know they have visiting day every five hundred years at least,’ his brain slammed itself against mental warfare and dreadful thoughts… ‘But then again, three hundred years is not even a million days in length.’

It was at that moment that a scream seemed to fill all three humans that there was indeed something wrong around here. The scream had a feminine ring to it, as the sounds of slamming doors seemed to hastily remind with an oh so disturbingly familiar laugh. There was no way that this Jimmy here could be that skilled of a ventriloquist. “My brother! We have to stop him. Whee!” went Jimmy as he clenched the puffy white chef’s hat into his hands nervously to twist up the fabric for soothing energy release.

“Fine then!” Phil sighed with great caution. Something about this all felt so wrong, but he would trust them for now… ‘Gina, oh god no! If you die, know that you will be missed. It should be me!’ His mind snapped back. He bolted towards the noise, returning to the main hall.

Gina was there, her eyes wide in fear as she stayed sprawled on the couch, apparently and thankfully unhurt. It made Phil’s extremely hyperactive heartbeat soften up just a bit to know she was safe. “Gina!” he ran to her. He had to make sure though. “Are you alright?”

She smiled slightly at the sight. “Yes, I’m just fine.” she reassured slowly. “Thank you for your concern.” she added, just because it was polite. “Jimmy didn’t do anything to me though.” she half lied, wishing not to cause the death of an unfortunate man. After all, Jimmy never asked to be mentally challenged. He did pounce on her indeed, but he didn’t do anything for practically half a minute except for the word Whee and other babble that would make redneck high school dropouts seem like Einstein. To say though that she felt she could simply die at that moment would be an understatement. Death would have likely been too easy an easy escape, though the mind of a twelve year old may disagree with such logic.

A smile formed on Phil’s lips, as his heart felt warm for what he felt may have been the last time ever. There was something about this girl that made him feel needed, wanted… he would do his best for her if he had to, or take his own life if the command, less likely than lottery victory, were to arise! As much a need as it was, he wondered. Would she be safe…

There‘d be no more time for thinking! “Whee!” blurted the stable minded Jimmy as he opened the door. “Where’d my brother go?” wondered Chef Jimmy. It was odd. The scream indeed was in here. Where had that dangerous man gone? It was a question that needed answering. ‘I blame mom for his way.’ he sighed. Abused kids are not often known to be the most stable of adults.

Now it was Gina’s turn to lay eyes on the mirror image decked fully in chef gear. Facts remained though. This man had the same spiky black hair, the same Jimmy voice, and same Jimmy laugh, not to mention the power of the enthusiastic ‘Whee’ Going agape, her chin would have likely dropped all the way through to the other side of the planet had the laws of cartoon physics any say in the lore of reality.

“Look…” began Phil with a sigh. “I know what you think, but I can assure you, this isn’t him! We don’t honestly have time for the explanation again, got it?” he eyed Jimmy. Could he truly believe all this? Was this Pokemon Center not all it seemed? He without skepticism would rue this day. “But if it is… he’ll be sorry.” he sneered to make his point. ‘Why on earth did they seem to stall there?’ he eyed about as the nurse stepped in from the hallway at long last with a green little spider standing at her side, nervous and afraid.

Gina smiled at the little insect. It looked so timid and scared, natural when you stand beside many of the one species that dominates the food chain “Hello!” she said calmly. “Who’s Spinarak is this?” she wondered. “Is there something wrong with it?” she tilted her head like a pendulum in a clock, though slower, and more controlled between sways.

“It’s just fine.” the nurse smiled with fakery, before releasing the guise and glaring daggers the size of claymores at Phillip. “Though it does suffer from a case of dangerous, unstable trainer.” This woman of pink was glaring daggers at the boy.

Gina eyed Phil. “When did you catch your own Pokemon?” she wondered, more confused over the fact Phil already had a Pokemon. ‘He has no clue what he’s doing! How could he possibly have caught one before I could?!’ her eyes did well to hide such jealous competitiveness. After all, things truly would not become bad. Here was a boy who knew nothing about Pokemon. Perhaps it was a mere stroke of luck that let him attain the arachnid beast. “I mean…” she resumed, ready to ramble on endlessly, just like a woman would, but a clang of metal reminded that there was a nut job somewhere around here.

Phil sighed as he thought how he could explain this simply. “Let’s just say, I was ******, and the little runt caught me with my pants down!”

“Oh no! My precious kitchen!” the sane Jimmy gasped. That was the sound of clashing pans and dishes. “I hope he doesn’t find the pies I made!” he panicked as he ushered the lazy chatters before him to get a move on. “C’mon! Chimrax, we may need your help.” he exclaimed as a poke ball swiftly opened itself before him.

The sight before him was that of a lion… mostly. With blue fur and a mane of light orange around it like he true king of the jungle would want. However, this was no lion. Behind that mane of fur, necks seemed to sprout differently. On the right side, long white goat fur seemed to stray, with silvery horns upon its goat head. On the other side of its body seemed the most out of place head of all, a snakes! Yellowish green and with more scales than Beethoven’s work, it all opened at a beaklike snout. Its back legs seemed akin to those of the goats, hardened and indeed hooves of green. The front legs were those of the mighty lion. Upon its back though were wigs of yellow, with light pink undersides and a few clawed fingers. It was a dragon’s head, not a snake’s. Most different though was the tail. It was a simple red thing, adorned with spikes enough to make a porcupine jealous, and they were even scattered about more randomly as well. As large and deadly as it sounded, it didn’t stand any taller than Phil’s shoulders, and seemed quite lean as well.

The creature did not interest Phil in the least. “Please keep your hat on before it winds up missing!” Phil’s voice snapped bitterly at the man with the voice he had come o find synonymous with loathing! ‘Your head will share your hat’s fate if you don’t cork up that evil laughter!’ He sighed away his angry thoughts, knowing they would not just leave. They would return, and would be thrice as bad when they did. So be it, but he was damned to be sure that he would not let them get in the way here and now.

Scrambling like eggs, the Molson dashed for the door to the kitchen. As he opened it, all seemed quiet... too quiet! There was nobody in sight, and the only option of evasive doorways was that into the kitchen itself. After all, this was just the cafeteria. “Weenie in the HOLE!” came an irritably loud outburst, scaring a good half year off Phil’s life.

The sane adults present made a disgusted flinch, for many a sexual innuendo could be easily discovered in those freaky words.

“Jimmy!” yelled Phil, having not been in the mood for games since life stabbed him in his back and told him how much it hated him. Before he could react to anything, he was nailed! Bull’s-eyed quite effectively… with a pie. Of all things to be attacked with as a mess of gooey fruit, dairy and bread crust melded into one big pie face.

“It would be funny if it weren’t for the context of all of this.” sighed the sane Jimmy. It was just like in those movies, but Jimmy feared his head would be ripped off and digestive excretion would fill his headless body. It was only worsened by the animosity that the Molson boy held towards his accursed voice. It seems dessert was now ruined. If only there had been more lessons on playing with your food…

Dilasc

27th October 2005, 12:20 AM

Every region has its own legends, and Kertonmel is no different. Soon, you shall be introduced to Kertonmel’s triad: the Oni beasts. Not yet though. For now, more story. Don’t forget to review already, seriously! It's a bit lonely!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 8: Family Guys

In an instance, the world went white! A strong heavy stench lofted about… it smelled like blueberries, and a hint of lemon. In a slow, yet fluid, as well as dramatically slow, motion, Phillip Molson’s hands swept across his face, pulling away lumps of creamy white lemon icing, his bloodshot eyes red with fury as they were removed from their shroud of sugary sweets. Following the clearing of his eyes like underpaid windshield wipers on torrential rain spells, a finger rose to his mouth, the white mess gone as it left the digestive starting line. “Yick!” he cringed. “Lemon…” he murmured. It was bad. A blend of lemon and blueberries both that made him want to vomit enough to engulf the sun in spew. Ironic though how lemonade was good, but lemons were not.

Just because life is fun like a powerful bullet to the brain, another pie made its home upon the boy’s forehead and wavy hair. Unlike the first pie, his vision was left unhindered by creamy goodness. He snarled at this, dabbing his hand swiftly into the gooey mess in his hair. This time the creamy goo was pink. Like before, he decided to chow down. Strawberries… naturally. After all, pink was ALWAYS strawberry... or watermelon. Good to eat and all of that, but Phil was not in the mood. He hungered for something else.

Come to think about it, the bullet to the head was beginning to make Phil all warm inside. If not his head, then either of the Jimmy brothers would both would be fine choices for warm bloodletting. But the asinine pie thrower was far out of reach now. Needless to say, he’d call the fool jack-asinine, or maybe just to confuse himself even less, Jim-asinine. Sure, words can hurt, but then again, talk is cheaper than any item at the dollar store, and a wooden stick is always many times more effective than some vocal wind whoosh.

With the fears of life suddenly sapping away, Phil grabbed both pie tins and slammed them against the floor, creating a loud clang, and sending pink and white creamy goodness everywhere, from floor, to table, and even the ceilings. As for the pie tins, one was still in fine condition, the other seemed to bend inwards, as though it were shutting itself inward. “Well?” he yelled, loud and angry, “You guys wanna help stop this schmuck?” he glowered back. Though the door was closed behind him, it was safe to say, the burning in his eyes practically melted all barriers away, and a chill went up the spines of all sane beings who heard him.

It wasn’t even a second of hesitation before the door swiftly opened behind him. “Phillip, what happened?” asked Gina. It was as she ran in with the chaos of it all that she too was soon nailed with food for thrash. This time however, instead of the bright and sweet colorful treat that is pie, red seemed to dominate. A thick and chunky red, with white, chunky, and nearly mold, and flimsy yellow pieces of flat rectangles, frilled along the longer edges scattered about upon impact, smashing it all to the floor, while many small pieces of brown, seemingly meaty particles swarmed about the floor. Truth be known, as funny as it may look, getting hit by a fast moving piece of food hurts the spirit, while the metallic dish hurts wherever it smacks the unsuspecting victim. Gina looked about her as the food, whatever it was, made a mess of red and white in her hair. She felt as though she could cry.

“My Lasagna!” screamed the chef. “WWWH…” he caught himself as Phillip’s eyes threatened to melt the sun into three liters worth of ashes, which would also be melted, especially because ashes don’t form from melting, especially from a giant nuclear solar body like the sun.

He was not angry so to say, Phillip Molson was freaking ****** to be blunt! “Don’t SAY IT!” h roared in rage unconcerned with the fact that a three headed beast, both lion and serpentine seemed to have their eyes on the boy as the beast stood loyally and obediently by its master like a protective dog.

“My brother found the lasagna! Oh no!” Chef Jimmy was in panicked fearful frenzy. All his ‘oh so time consuming to make unto grand perfection’ dishes were being thrown away… or rather, thrown at people, instead of being eaten by them. He took great pride in the dishes he cooked. PRIDE... all gone to waste.

Actually, it wasn’t going to total waste, as an ever afraid of losing its limbs Spinirak scuttled in on its luckily still present legs. With a slight sniff at a pink clump of strawberry slop on the floor, dabbed with a tad of marinara sauce, and pieces of lasagna beef, the spider’s nasal capacity concluded one thing: Food, Hungry, Smell Good! Well, so MAYBE it was three things. Regardless, the little spider’s thorax began to rumble in desperate need, the noise was almost cute, a pint sized version of a human stomach churn when food was needed en masse. Cautiously, the creature’s pincers began to shovel in globs of pink, the taste of strawberry, new and incredible, was much enjoyed by the little spider as it cheered its name in joy, tasting the pieces of meat and enjoying them too. Even the sauce tasted great! It was a… perfect meal… well, at least for an empty stomach, and furthermore it was new. Never before had the yellow-green arachnid feasted upon tomatoes before, let alone a saucy entr&#233;e.

Such a shame that taskmaster Phillip did not think this was a good time for a picnic, and leaving not much food to be cleared from the floor, his arm lashed swiftly at the spider, grabbing its thorax in a tight gripping squeeze in the pal of his hand. As he spoke to it, his voice sounded eerily happy, though his unstable shaking made it seem like he were a clockwork robot ready to go Ka-Boom. “Hello there.” He sounded as though he was extra happy, his voice softer than a machete through hot butter, but lighter than helium… and it likely meant life was out to get him egged on yet again. “Are you enjoying the nice food?” his grasp was tight. Though his arm hardly had the size to grasp the spider’s width in the fullest, it did do its job of being a firm grip. The arachnid, of course, was terrified beyond death. It hardly moved a muscle, not even to breathe, fearing so much that its end may have been nigh. “Well, how about some heartwarming love?” his faux cheer illuminated as he continued to speak. Swiftly, his other hand grasped tightly around the creature’s tiny neck. Had the power of squeeze, he’d likely have ripped the creature’s segmented body apart right then. His voice suddenly became sweeter, as though the pie had lunged in and merged with his voice box “If you ever want to make it to tomorrow, you will stop being a lazy, useless waste of exoskeleton! If you can’t stomach the pain, I’ll rip your stomach out.” his voice, though rasping, was still lighter than the tiniest, lightest hummingbird feather.

The poor spider was beyond paralyzed in pure terrified horror. Oh how it yearned for the simple life. At least the birds and beasts that threaten to eat your corpse don’t have much in the way of psychological warfare. Out there, its merely the way and circle of life, but here, the gleam of disaster was radiantly present in the human’s eyes. Perhaps this is why humans were said to be feared, or so the chitin covered creature was beginning to believe. This boy made him jump out of his exoskeleton thrice over in but a half and hour, and thrice more before that half an hour ended would it indeed bounce in and out of its hardened arachnid skin rest assured.

All eyes were on Phillip, wide and likely scared to death. “Now, lets go and shred that cretin Jimmy limb from limb and laugh at him as he dies, and if you don’t make yourself useful, your fate shall mirror his!” his voice was still dripping of honey and maple syrupy sweetness. “Have I made myself clear?” his cheery voice remained. Without a second thought in its primitive mind, the Spinirak nodded as best it could, considering the choke hold upon its breathing capacity. “Good!” his voice sounded five pitches too high and girly, as though he was freaking out. “Now I’m going to give you a chance to prove yourself useful.” his voice dripped exaggerated happiness like a waterfall off the edge of the earth.

“Phillip!” cracked a shocked, feminine voice from behind him. In a snap, he swiftly shifted his eyes to the source of objection, all so suddenly wishing he hadn’t. It was Gina. The green haired girl he’d never betray heard EVERYTHING! She heard every disturbing sound, saw every insane eye twitch, witnessed every violent act of verbal abuse. The extreme amount of shock on her face shown was almost impeccably noticeable.

Phil suddenly wanted to curse the day he was born, as he snapped back to reality. He felt like a large jagged rock had been clear plunged upwards through his bowels up into and through his brain, except he was still alive, and remained awake through every excruciating moment of what felt should suddenly be the last seconds of his life, as his face paled, seconds later reddened by a panicked rush of blood to his head.

As he tried to speak, the words he said strangled his neck, making him incapable of spewing anything but choked gasps and incoherent words from his mouth. He wanted to just lay down now as many pairs of eyes were focused heavily upon him. “I…” he gasped as he caught a breath, panicked, desperately wracking his brain for a most plausible excuse, but none to be found.

Her eyes blinked nervously, aghast as she spoke again. “Phillip! Let the poor thing breathe!” her voice was demanding. She had every right to be too, considering the strangling situation. Phil had not even thought of releasing his tightened grip from the poor little creature’s delicate spidery neck.

As Phil absorbed her retort, he wanted to jump to the moon and be just as light as if he were really there. All that worry, all that blood rush it was for nothing! He wanted to melt softly like a stick of butter in between the cracks in the floor and be one with the earth, just because such a thought was really, really offbeat, in a hippie sort of way. Yet all this time, his firm choke hardly loosened from the spider’s neck. It was now only that he even realized it. “Oh, right!” he nodded, not really caring if the little critter turned into a glob of bug juice or insect blood, as he released the spider, only to let it drop roughly to the floor as it panted heavily for the sweet mercy of fresh breathable sweet air as its rear end kissed the ground with a soft thud as it then landed upside down.

Panic, and struggling overflowed through the spidery beast as it squealed its name in pained shrieks. Today began the first day of the Spinirak’s ruined life, and it seemed to be starting off with a bang.

Jimmy’s pokemon was apparently bored. Well, it didn’t exactly have the greatest of attention spans. The dragon head was a slippery serpent though as it slowly slithered through the air above and around to the other side of he lion, a smirk upon its scaly lips as it gave the lion a slight poke on the shoulder, and quickly retracted before anyone could notice. Its mischievous deed had been done. The result was a bickering between the goat and the lion as they chanted the same name back and forth, both in very different tones.

Chef Jimmy meanwhile looked ready to have a good old conniption as he raised his voice. “My brother’s gonna ruin my kitchen!” he whined like a little girl, the stretch of the situation of a mere kitchen at risk seemed to be a top priority in the human’s crazy mind.

Phil of course, felt like complete crap, and all who had dare try and irritate him would feel the same way, so he would deem the order of the universe! “Fine…” he sighed. He hated Jimmy’s guts! He quickly sent his eyes to stare back at Gina. Her eyes were pure and caring. Deep pools of soft brown that he felt could never betray him. ‘Yet I’ve already betrayed her! She doesn’t deserve a person like me!’ he frowned. “Uh, Gina…” he gulped “About all you just heard…” he stammered. How could he continue to dare try and tell lies. It was time to use some honesty!

“Not now Phillip!” she quickly interrupted, as a misaimed dish filled with lasagna smashed violently against the wall. The ceramic plate shattered into many sharp pieces as a smudge of oranges, reds and yellows stained the wall. There he was, the ring headed maniac was behind the cafeteria counter, and beyond him were many dishes and trays. “We’ll discuss this later!” she retorted quickly and firmly. When she spoke like that, you KNEW she was going to live up to it.

“We have to restrain my brother now!” he was frantic “WHEE!” the fearful chef then blurted, graced by luck that Phil was too deep in his own world to care about the words he hates oh so much. “Joy’s calling the authorities as we speak!” he added, just for reassurance.

This mere mentioning caught Phil’s attention. “You’re sending him to JAIL?” he yelled in anger.

“No! We’re sending him to the tropical island country of Cubara, where he forever be plagued by Communism!” It was beyond obvious that sarcasm gushed from hi words like a powerful geyser from the very earth itself, rolling from the chef’s drying lips.

Phil rolled his eyes at that. “Yes, and your sarcastic humor is so funny!” he added a little of his own just because. Suffice to say, if he had to hear WHEE or that accursed laugh much longer, then butcher knives would rain like hellfire upon all… Gina would be a victim that would likely lead to a depressive end for the Molson maniac! Regardless, there were reasons behind his curiosity. “Seriously though! Why send him to prison? The man’s insane! He’ll enjoy the place just because!” after all, if Jimmy made it out alive, then he wanted the boy to suffer where he could never torture another soul again. After all, prisoners, showers, and dropped bars of soap means there’s little more that needs to be said about how entertainment is found. But even other criminals were better people than Jimmy, or so he believed.

It was at this point that the sound of breaking ceramic once again was heard crashing against the wall. This plate, or so it seemed, was an empty one.

The chef released a sigh at this point. “Did you not say that this man killed your sister… and worse before he killed her? Well, that’s crime, and its very punishable by law.” He did have a point it would seem. Of course, how would you feel if you had to put the lock down on YOUR brother.

But the Molson wasn’t taken by it. “Send the man to an asylum! If he doesn’t die by my will, then let him live in shambles and as close to misery as a happy-go-lucky fool can be!” He held his fist clenched tightly, feeling the strangulation urges of wind pipe constriction overflowing his mind as his eyes wandered to the ground for a moment of thought, only to lay eyes upon a struggling spider, helpless on its back. Immobilized as it was, it felt oh so tempting to simply step on the creature’s soft underbelly and get rid of its miserable tarantulan presence once and for all!

That however was not going to happen. “Help the poor thing up!” yelled Gina as she pushed a small lock of verdant hair away from her smooth face. The sight of her could merely overwhelm Phillip if he stared too long into her brown eyes. “It’s okat there.” she smiled. Her words were not for Phil. Instead, they were for the helpless bug, flailing upside down on the floor in a conniption as her gentle touch reached out and slowly set the creature right side up.

As it was fixed, the spider wanted nothing more than to sink its fangs into the tiled floor and smooch the ground passionately for being able to remain alive as its many spidery eyes blinked as they gazed up at the green haired girl. Her voice was soft like a silk pillow, and just as comforting. This female human felt like the mother the arachnid never had because, well, technically the Spinirak species was never known as a species that usually meets their mother, except for the empty husk of an exoskeleton which is meant to be the creature’s first meal upon hatching. From litters of several in number, it’s a race to see who can get their fill of mother meat, and its every spider for themselves. Well, such was the old way of life.

It’s a bug eat bug world out there in the wilds. Somehow this change, despite the cruelty, was indeed safer, should the wrath of the Molson not be invoked upon his spidery self. Still, even animals love to mate, and not just for survival, but every living creature wants to have fun. Heck, that’s the fun of catching prey in the wild. The edible female Weedle capture can be much more than just a bittersweet meal. Suffice to say, such mating was possible. Yes, that female Weedle would sate the male’s urges as he’d have his way with it, then devour its raped husk to quell the rumbling in its tummy, the eggs it could lay would never come to be. Yes, that was a life of pleasure. Its gaze was blank at the human. This emotion… love, kinship… it was new. Before this captivity, it was either eat or be eaten, now its be hated and then eaten alive by the hatred, on the other hand, if you seem to survive the hatred, your luck is only rewarded with more hatred.

“Lets go now!” shouted the chef Jimmy. “If he finds my Eepeetuna casserole I will KILL him!” he clenched his fist, only to have Phillip suddenly staring him straight in the face.

“No!” his voice was firm, yet angry, hissing like a garden snake. “I will kill him! Me! Got it?” he meant it too. There was no doubt that Phillip Molson would let ring-faced Jimmy walk away alive.

Unfortunately, in his enraged frustration, meanings can be forgotten in the world of brotherly love. Therefore, such sayings between siblings like ‘I’m going to kill you!’ really mean ‘I love you, but its time for painful, brotherly noogies!’ “I didn’t really mean it like that.” the Chef sighed. Despite all odds, that psycho man in there was indeed of direct blood. “That man is my brother, you see… and I love him.” his head went downtrodden to the floor. “Do you know how painful it is to need to put down your own brother?” he asked, as tears threatened to roll down the cook’s eyes. “He may have desecrated your sister, but he’s still my brother, and despite the guilt on our family name, I still love him.”

In turn, this made Phillip begin to think as well. “Then…” ‘Hmm, I gotta make this sound good!’ he sighed as he spoke again. “Then perhaps you’d be doing him the biggest favor a brother ever could, and end his sorrow and misery?” Did he mean a word of that? Not at all, but whatever it takes to spill Jimmy’s blood to the last ounce, he would give up anything, even his own useless life if need be, and Phil was a performer at heart.

The chef’s eyes were practically about ready to turn into a flooded lake as his nose sniffled slightly as he furrowed his left brow. With a slight rubbing of the stubble on his chin and a elongated sigh, he spoke again. “I’ll consider it.” his voice was not in the least bit pleased, but neither was it in the least bit enraged, it was a harsh neutrality, the guilt of the loss of his brother would be hard indeed. ‘That kid already knows what its like. WHEE!’ his mind couldn’t let up a break as it forced a catch phrase into his mental notation. ‘I hope my loss does not turn me cold like him. Not for my sake, but for the sake of others… and the sake of love.’ His eyes shut as he tried to shut away mental images. To no avail however, as all that happened was the splashing of salty water upon the tiled floor. It was time to stop his half brother! The longer that was delayed, the less likely he could be dealt with. “Very well… lets just get to it!” he sighed yet again. He wasn’t willfully ready to undergo such an case, but now there was little choice.

Dilasc

27th October 2005, 11:50 PM

A treat!

I knew you people would give me silent treatment! You’re just lucky I’m using any excuse I can get to get yoyr replies! Well, here’s the list of Kertonmel’s unattainables. Remember, for water types, it’s listing pokemon that CAN be found, instead of can’t, imply because there’s so many water types, and very few water types in Kertonmel. Also, evolved versions of the Pokemon are also obviously either present or not present if listed.

That’s all of them so far... if I didn’t miss any. Don’t worry though. There are plenty of made-ups that will fill plenty of gaps. Legendaries are of course unique as well. This is a different region, it kinda makes sense! As you know, if you’ve been reading, the legendary three, or in this case, four are Oni demons. All half dark, their elements are electric, poison, ghost and air. You will learn more about them, but you must read and reply.

Be warned that this list is not final and definitive in any way. It is subject to removals, replacements and revisions. Still, it's a basic jist.

nintyweb

28th October 2005, 2:25 AM

A long time ago, just after I joined, I read about a chapter of the original, but I wrongly predicted he'd be abusing Totodile for a long time and decided to stop reading. But then tonight I stumbled upon this and decided to give it a proper chance - and in doing so thoroughly enjoyed it. I like the way you've started off with the cultist sub-plot which I presume will eventually entwine with the main one. I also find the way that a good guy makes more enemies than friends with his quick temper interesting - although I am starting to feel a bit sorry for him. I hope to give a more detailed review next chapter, as this is just an overview of my thoughts. All in all, two thumbs up from me, you've done a great job here.

Well, well well, look at all the lovely lovely chapter. I can cuddle up with this and a big ol' bottle of caffinated beverage* pop fiz* ahhh.

Wel, let us begin:

Like said in the first part of this, I know that you didn't intend to have this be comical, but it is, I laughed.

Hatred is a feeling of regret, a feeling of fear, and chaos, all released, usually violently, in a package of pure rage. It spares nobody. Everyone has something that makes them tick like a time bomb of anger. Nobody can escape this feeling... nobody!

Sorry it just seemed funny. Nobody, nobody you fools, NOBODY! lol

Yeah, well, when you described his sister, i kind of got nausious. What's carrion?

Whaa, Totodile's a monster, I tell you, a monster! Who was to know that behind that cute exteria was the heart of a murderer! Oh the humanity! ^_^

Just wanted to highlight that.

I read the rest and I found it absoulutly delightfull. The description was wonderfull and didn't exceed it's presents.

I liked it and hope you continue.

As always, be kind to the mime.

Dilasc

29th October 2005, 1:44 AM

Ooh, readers, and me with a very poor person skills.

Nintyweb: When you give something a proper chance, many good things happen. Of course the occult is going to play a major role, but I must say, that good and evil are drawn at a very thin line.

Klaus: You can cuddle up with a cup of coffie? You must have a talent to avoid burning your hands. Unless you meant soda. Regardless, glad you enjoy it.

Another interlude, featuring an Oni. One of Kertonmel’s legendary trio, or in this case, quartet (After all, three is a very odd and very prime number, it's as odd and as prime as fifty-nine!) Anywho, this one is the thunder demon, Sparkoni. It is of course, Electric/Dark. Soon, I will post basic statistics of new creatures seen thus far, mostly because making new Pokemon is fun!

Dust to Deceit

Interlude 3 - Don’t Steal My Thunder

Thunder crashed loudly as bright, white lightning ripped the dark grey sky with its brightness. It was a spectacle of light, energy and power, and amongst this super-cell thunderstorm that violently lashed about, a mysterious entity reveled and basked in its glory and seeming endless energy.

It seemed little more than a giant mask trailed by a wisping darkness that could chill even the most evil of humans. Its face was that of a dark yellow, a single demonic horn on its nose shaped like a yellow bolt of lightning. Patterns of blacks and sickly greens covered its mask face. It was without a doubt a storm fit for a lightning demon. It was a storm fit for Sparkoni’s tastes and worthy of testing it’s power.

The beast was one of the Oni of Kertonmel. It was practically a god amongst men and Pokemon. As lightning crashed around it, it’s horn began to glow a bright white, as charged ions and particles were practically ripped from the clouds and sent to the beast’s blackened soul. It was energizing, and refreshing. After all, thunder was its most sustaining form of nourishment, second only to its demonic love for the souls of those doomed to eternal damnation.

As the lightning calmed for but a few seconds in time, a white beast with massive wings became visible to the demon. It could tell that the beast was there to speak with him. It was, after all another beast of legend. <Lugia...> the masked beast mumbled grouchily as it saw the winged creature approach. All that really escaped its mouth was the word Oni, broken up in many different variations though, due to its inability to speak in human tongues.

The mask beast despised the legend. After all, what right did a foreigner have to make demands of what it does from so far away? Regardless, the Oni was not stupid enough to dare lash out against Lugia, as despising and intimidating as its appearance upon its turf could be.

Lugia, following the flow of an upward gale, glided swiftly to the mask creature and came to a halt before it. “Greetings, Sparkon,.” it said in its telepathic voice.

The beast grunted, making no effort to hide its distaste for the winged legend of the sea. <You’re a bit far from home, ‘stranger’!> It hissed, the cackling sound of lightning and electrical sparks hissed loudly in every word that escaped from its mouth. It was practically breathing electrical pulses. <Aren’t you a bit far from home?>

Lugia paused for a second as the thunderous words hit it’s skull. Dealing with the Oni was never a treat for Lugia. They were dark, chaotic, and lacked tenacity for important tasks. There were, in a sense, lazy, but dangerous nonetheless. “Yes, I am far from Jhoto...” it paused to sigh, “and the sea as well.”

Lugia felt so weakened by the lack of water in Kertonmel. The rivers were too thin, and the lakes were all well inhabited by man, beast, or both, and regardless of that, Lugia needed the sea. Not so much the water itself, but the moisture was a source of energy for Lugia. Kertonmel was far too arid. All in all, the legendary was quite homesick, but it was on a mission. “Sparkoni,” it began in its telepathic tone. “Your hostility is understandable, but I urge you to listen.”

The Oni rolled its red eyes and glared at the winged one as it finished. <Give me a good reason, ‘stranger’!> Its electrical voice was still rasp and harsh toned. If not for the fear of the other legendaries and their retaliation, then the Oni would have fried the psychic bird then and there. It had the upper hand, and even Lugia knew that, with its powers of darkness and thunder to beat Lugia’s wind, water, and psychic abilities.

“Do you know of the Orbital Occult?” Lugia asked in an honest tone. It already knew the answer, even without needing to read the dark mask’s mind. Suffice to say, like most dark types, their minds were difficult to read, mainly because the vision received were often chaotic and unclear.

The legendary mask had a rather neutral appearance to the mention. <They... the Occult does not concern me with their petty, ‘human’ rituals.> The muscles on it’s face twitched only slightly to prove how false that statement was. With a sigh, the mask beast spoke again, <Fine, they are a minor threat! They are only humans, after all!>

Lugia narrowed its gaze upon the thunderous Oni. “They have many great seers and strong divination magic. They have been able to gaze at a planet, amongst the cosmos!” Lugia paused, its eyes shutting for a second before opening widely, the psychic legend yelling loudly as it’s eyes reopened. “GRETKAN!”

At this, the demon mask rolled it’s red eyes once more. <Do you expect me to care about one of your personal vendettas?> The beast mask snarled. <You must have forgotten that I am a demon, and thus don’t care about your need to protect humanity from themselves.>

“I expected as much.” Lugia stated calmly, the bird’s long neck nodding up and down a few times calmly. “Considering how you and your brothers perform the Viral Storm of Souls to rip destruction and chaos, I am not surprised.” Lugia shuddered. The Oni ‘brothers’, as they were known were demons of dark powers. Suffice to say, they were siblings, but like most legendary beasts, they held no true gender.

The demon grinned, as a serpentine, snakelike tongue licked its lips, a pair of sharp, glowing white teeth shined for a brief second as its mouth opened. <Ah, yes, the rush! The power! The Storm... it is an undescribable ecstasy that thrills me to have been summoned to this plane of existence! It is what I live for, but YOU...> the mask glared at the winged legendary, <You and others of your pious ilk seek to ruin our fun!>

Lugia growled at this. The Oni fed on anger and fear! Not literally, but they did enjoy negative emotions, negative feelings, and pain. They were, after all, demons. “We defend this planet from usurpers like you and your brothers!” The legendary sea beast paused. “Hopefully, you will remember to behave.”

<My brothers and I have been ‘behaved’ for five-hundred eighteen years.> The mask stated sternly. <Gee, hasn’t been that many earth years since we were summoned?> It asked in a sarcastic tone. It soon dissipated, leaving the serious manner which the Oni were known for. <Since our first and ONLY Viral Soul Storm in this dimension.>

Lugia sighed. “It was once too many.” The winged legend took on a harsh tone from there. “Kertonmel was nearly wiped out, and that ******* brother of yours, Spookoni, cursed all Numel and Camerupts world wide, irrevocably!”

The demon mask laughed lightly and heartily. <Ah, I remember that. The fear in the sacrificed camel was pure GOLD! Besides, I’d say they look better with shorter, stubbier legs!> The mask shrugged, as best as a face could without any shoulders to shrug. <No, that’s a lie. I honestly just don’t care.>

“Regardless.” the winged one said in a serious tone. “You Oni are a nuisance!”

<We are demons.> the mask corrected. <The humans who summoned us should have realized that when you make a pact with a demon... bad things happen.> The beast mask grinned, as a bolt of lightning clashed behind it. The storm had died down quite a bit. After all, this storm was at the whim of the lightning demon who harnessed it, clashing thunderbolts and lightning to the world below for the mere purpose of chaos. <You know, I hate it when someone tries to steal my thunder time! As enjoyable as it is to have many electrical storms in this world... well I’m a busy, busy demon!>

“I have yet to mention Vortexaco.”

To this, another clash of loud thunder ripped light upon the dark skies, and the demon’s gaze stiffened. <The flatulent portal maker, is it?> The demon asked with a curious grin. <Is this an excuse to rid yourself of me forever? How thoughtful... but honestly, I am a demon, and I can breathe, even in the empty vacuum of space. Besides, I know my way back here. You’ll only cause an inconvenience which I’m sure me and my brothers will not stand for.>

<I see... no wait, I’m just saying that to sound like I understand, which I don’t.> Sparkoni laughed, a crackling spark of pinkish light escaping its mouth as it did. <I assume this which you speak of is further back than our time on your planet, and in this dimension.>

Lugia nodded. “Yes. It is important that you know what I speak to you about.”

<I’m sure.> The oni nodded. <Bravado for taking the time to travel thousands of miles to see me.>

Lugia interrupted. “Jhoto is not that far away. Yes, over a thousand, but less than two thousand.”

<Right. Not important to me.> The demon stated, shrugging its nonexistent shoulders. <The fact is, I don’t care about justice, love, and defending the world. I am a demon of chaos.>

“How thoughtful of you...” Lugia nodded with false enthusiasm. “Perhaps if I give you permission to unleash the Viral Storm of Souls on the land, would you consider cooperation?”

The demon’s eyes widened as it licked its lips. Many bolts of thunder crashed around it, at this sudden jolt of excitement. <Mmm, ah, but my brothers and I haven’t been on the best of terms, especially Vacuumoni... it is with he that we create beautiful weather together... a raging super cell thunderstorm, complete with tornadoes of speeds unfathomable to this planet. A shame at that, but he needs to stop thinking of me as his lesser, since it is obviously he who is weaker than me. Poxoni and I are on better terms, but I’d certainly enjoy tearing him to shreds.> The demon’s eyes shifted to a sinister smirk, <Don’t worry, you are higher on my hate list.>

“Good for me!” replied Lugia with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever. “Regardless, I would like to think you smart enough to listen to my plea.”

The electrical mask took a second to ponder, no more and no less. <Alright.> The demon complied with a sinister, toothy grin. <It will be enjoyable to hear you beg. Now, amuse me!> The mask demanded in a dark tone, as the booming sound of thunder made the moment all the more dramatic.

The legendary sea beast nodded its head. As despicable and repulsive as he Oni were, they were after all demons, and they could not help their urges for demonic rituals. Besides that, they have been doing their job as peacekeepers and guardians of Kertonmel in spite of their chagrin and lackluster. It was after all, their job as legendaries was to protect their nation, and theirs was a big and dangerous nation. “I am glad that you will listen.” Lugia said with a sigh of relief. “Now, listen up. This is complicated and urgent.”

Saffire Persian

29th October 2005, 3:51 AM

Wow. I have never seen that much hate for one particular object (or Pokemon) ever grace any fanfiction I have read thus far. His anger is understandable, but I was surprised how much anger the Phillip had. Very obsessive there. Which makes me wonder.. is there something else wrong with him, besides having an overwhelming hatred of the thing, because not very many people can harbor that kind of hate without being at least a little psycho.

Anyway, you portrayed Phillip very well in his obsessive endeavor, and his hatred at having been given a Totodile (To think a Professor would let him get that one after his sister's murder...) And I feel bad for the little Totodile. It surely hasn't done anything wrong.

I can see where this stories going, and though I may be slow at reviewing, I'll keep on reading this.

Dilasc

29th October 2005, 10:43 PM

Saffire Persian: Erm, yes, Phil is a bit obsessive. He's also a bit of a drama queen. Regardless, the final stretch of the angry saga is almost over. You will, of course, learn more about Phil as the story goes on. Speaking of which, only a few more chapters until some actual journey, I promise.

Huzzah! As I promised, statistics of the newly introduced Pokemon. You can skip this boring stuff though, since it’s not too important. It’s mostly just for fun, and to help you fill a nice, non-existent Kertonmel Pokedex if you wish to play along!

Lambshade
Name Derivative: Lamb and shade... or rather, its Lampshade with a p instead of a b.
Type: Electric/Dark
Evolution/Preevolution: Evolve Mareep at 15, but make sure it’s happiness meter is low, otherwise it will become Flaafy. Evolves into Blaksheer.
Ability: Static

Epeetuna
Name Derivative: Epee is a sword, and tuna is a fish. It’s a swordfish, duh!
Type: Normal/Fighting (even though it lives in water)
Evolution/Preevolution: Evoves from a species yet to be seen at level 19, and it evolves at level at 43.
Ability: Swift Swim or Lightning Rod

Ion
Name Derivative: Uh, it’s an Ion, what more do you need?
Type: Electric/Fighting
Evolution/Preevolution: Electrode evolves into Ion, but how... well, that’s a secret I’m not revealing just yet.

Chimrax
Name Derivative: Chimera with an X at the end, but missing an e in the middle. Not too clever, but HEY, we have the chimera... to the maximum!
Type: Dragon/Normal
Evolution: It evolves at level 47, into a species yet to be seen.
Ability: Mountaineer - Immunity to Sandstorm and Hail

Claymore
Name Derivative: It’s based on a Scottish sword, and well, actual clay. Need more?
Type: Ground/Fighting
Evolution: Evolves at level 32, into a species we have yet to meet.
Ability: Softness - Half Damage from Normal and Fighting moves, but 50% more from Steel

Poxoni
Name Derivative: Pox is a sickness, see above about an Oni.
Type: Poison/Dark
Evolution: Maybe when the moon tastes like a real cheese!
Ability: Venom Hide - When the enemy strikes with a contact move, 15% chance that they’ll be inflicted with a strong poison (Toxic)

Spookoni
Name Derivative: Spook... spooky!
Type: Ghost/Dark
Evolution: The wheels in my head don’t go round and rou... oops, wrong script!
Ability: Astral Phase - Improves chance to evade by 10%. Does not work on never miss moves.

Vacuumoni
Name Derivative: We’re talking the vacuum that sucks up dirt... mostly.
Type: Dark
Evolution: Seriously, let’s just be friends!
Ability: Wind Mill - Absorbs 1/4 of the damage a Flying attack would have dealt.

I think that’s all of them! Let’s get on with the show, shall we? For the most part, I’m going to crank out the last two chapters very soon... so I can get to the point where I need to start writing again... well, actually, if I feel that the chapters need some work, I will work on them so don’t hold me to my word so much. Anyway, battle time!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 9: Clay is Thicker Than Water

Time felt slow… it was as though an eternity passed by in the blink of an eye, at least, that’s how Phillip Molson felt right about now. As well, a pool of sun drenched lava would not even begin to explain the intensity of his anger and boiling blood. It was a wonder that his capillaries had yet to melt or char into blackness thicker than oil but more than twice as flammable.

His body trembled as though there were some volatile dynamite hidden deep inside, with a fuse shorter than his little toe, and lighting it would be easier than burning down a forest, for not even a spec of heat would be needed. Phillip Molson, as stated earlier many times before, was very, VERY ****** off. His shoes clomped angrily upon the floor as the room began to tremor, leaving the sound of rattling metal pots and tin silverware to shake about. Fortunately for all in fear of a crumbling building, Phillip Molson only weighed about one hundred fifty pounds at most. In spite of this fact, his feet slammed the smooth tiled floor below him, squishing as he stepped in sauce or pie cream, giving not even the tiniest concern that his shoes were probably best left to the dogs at this point, a tasty treat of rubber, fruit icing, and of course the oh so very delectable shoelaces, oft eaten in a style akin to that of the many stringy forms of pasta.

Competency was not an issue here. The rotten psycho would be given one chance to end his own life quickly and without struggle, and then he would be destroyed slowly and painfully, and Jimmy would then laugh no more! Finally, all would be at peace… at least for half a minute. All now that lay in wait as an obstacle was a white painted door made of fresh, smoothly coated wood. “This is it, you wretched punk!” his eyes blazed hotter than the sunny side of Mercury, while tears threatened to roll down off his face! Yet the door knob, when he pulled with all his enraged might, would nay budge at all. The Molson boy growled as he proceeded to try again, pulling violently to make it turn.

“Whee!” it was that accursed chef whose blood was that the same as the murderer within. His eyes widened the instant he realized his fatal mistake. “Uh, wait!” he quickly yelled, as to assure Phillip he was not asking for death sentences that would be numerous and many. His quivering hand quickly went to a pocket at the side of his pants, and after but a second of the sound of jingling metals, out from his pocket was a flattened vision of faded brass. It was a key. “Allow me.” he smiled as he approached the door.

Phillip Molson’s eyes still raged as the ring of the accursed Jimmy family trademarks still tormented his ears and fueled his rage, but he was not stupid enough as to destroy the only source of entrance to where the murderer lay in wait.

Some logic however, did not seem to fit the bill. “If your stepbrother is in there...” Gina Meshing’s voice seemed to ring out as a question of great importance lingered in her mind.

“Half brother.” Jimmy corrected as he turned the brass object within the shiny silver doorknob. “We are of the same mother after all.” His information was with no doubt utterly useless at the current time. There were bigger things to be of concern with than family ties, yet here he was wasting precious oxygen on matters of probable debauchery that lead to such parentage issues. In he following second, a very light click could be heard.

“The point is, if the door’s locked, how did your brother get in to begin with?” Gina pursued. Something here didn’t seem to add up.

“Well, I’m guessing he went in over the counter.” Jimmy’s deductive reasoning concluded. Indeed it was a counter. One where trays for lovely meals could be brought to help oneself to the delectable meal of the day and you’d feast like a king for what feels like eternity, yet the only time to pass however is only that in which it takes to finish the last bite. It was good enough to make you… well, it was enough to obey the power of the apron, you just want to ‘Kiss the Cook!’ “In fact, I’d be sure of it.” he paused, hesitating to finish opening the door.

“If you don’t open in ten seconds, then I too will jump the counter!” it was Phillip, and oh boy was he ******! All he wanted to do was complete his personal vendetta. The thoughts were stirring in his head now, and like before they were a vision of bloody death and fulfilled vengeance.

The scene was nothing but blank whiteness, yet there was plentiful ground to walk upon, though you’d never know where the separation between ground and air began. Yet, there was Jimmy, dying in a stained mess of blood, red flowing down to the white of nothingness that was the floor. In spite of extreme blood loss, multiple bodily impalements and other fatal wounds, there he was laughing without a sane care in the world, fueling and egging Phillip’s anger onward. In a manner only accomplishable in dreams, Phillip Molson, in all of his fury, chopped the man’s head clear off its home upon his shoulders. In spite of the separation from voice box, the damned killer was still laughing his head off, more literally. Oh how Phillip wanted to scream in tormented rage. It was to no avail however, for when he tried to scream, his body shook.

“Phillip!” it was the chef. In his accursed Jimmy voice, he had woken him up from a nearly fulfilled fantasy. He knew that voice all too well. It was the chef. The chef whose blood, voice and name were beyond kindred, they were practically the same, as the cruel murderer within the kitchen of fate! “How… how do you feel about my brother?” his words were hesitant, yet he perhaps already knew the answer well.

Phil’s mind never even needed to focus, for his answer, though worded slowly, was known since the moment he met the man who truly devastated his life. “I hate him!” his voice sounded cold and empty of any emotion but rage. “Sorry.” his eyes went downcast. Had he realized at long last that this man beside him also was concerned with family, after all, little else can be ever quite as important. “I LOATHE him! Don't ask stupid questions!” the volume exploded on the word of extreme detesting, sending a slight shiver up Gina’s spine as she heard it. Apparently, he had no care at all for the fate of brotherly love, all he wanted was to get revenge… even if he had to die while trying.

“Phillip…” it was Gina, “How could you?” but her words were not heard. ‘Not like he’d listen to a weakling like me.’ she sighed as her mind poisoned itself with discontent and despair. Gina Meshing may only live because the boy enraged and standing there now was there to rescue her, but two wrongs… well, it’s certain even closet dwelling introverts know the saying.

In another click, the door to the kitchen of final fate had opened at long last! Revenge and victory were sweet and dark, just like hot fudged chocolate sauce, oh so tempting, but oh so dark, that light itself escapes only because it’s the fastest thing in the known universe, but rest assured, that ray of light never returns there again, it only looks like its still there, but truth be known, its just another ray in the continual, endless stream of sunray.

“Move!” his voice demanded as the loud click sounded. In a swift motion, he had stomped through the door, where a culinary arena surely awaited, though as he burst through, the hopes of enough space to spill blood cleanly were dashed. It was a forest of utensils and silverware to say the least, with silvery colored carts used to hold those fancy lids of food as it was carted to its most fortunate partaker of its yummy goodness. Forks, spoons, pots, and pans littered walls and shelves, while some hung from racks colored in silvery tints as well. The forks, well, some of them would work nicely with their sharp prongs, perfect for destroying Jimmy’s unholy eye holes, a gateway to the soul of a true demon!

Still, it was no compare to the many knives as well. From most pitiful butters to the all mighty butchers, there’d be plenty of spots to stab the ******* to a gruesome, fulfilling death. Stoves, and boilers were present too, a perfect weapon for most diabolic warfare straight from the burning depths of the hells! Into the fray it was then.

There was no turning back, and there couldn’t have been a worse way to start revenge, than getting mowed down by a wheeled cart made of strong sheet metal, followed up by a loud “WHEE!” and an obnoxious laugh.

Of course, the other Jimmy saw it all. “Can he handle himself if it comes down to a battle with Pokemon involvement?” his words were directed towards Gina.

“I…” she didn’t quite know how to say it. How could you not scare or embarrass anyone by blurting out quite factually the words “he hasn’t even the slightest clue!” Yet, by blunder and carelessness, mouth and mind spoke both at the same time, and the expression on the chef’s face reflected this.

To say chef Jimmy was irked, or fearful was anything but the truth. If it were, then his control over emotions was simply an amazing work of acting. “I see.” his tone was as neutral as a psychoanalyst and one could almost expect him to have a pen and notepad on hand as he would jot down notes and come to conclusions. “My brother has quite a talent for training.” he spoke calmly. “He may seem to be at a lack for sanity, but I assure you that he knows a thing or two about Pokemon.” he sighed. After all, even a crazy person could be a cunning genius if he wants.

A sigh escaped from the girl’s mouth. “Well, I doubt Phillip’s got much of a want to bother with it.” she sighed, eyeing the Spinarak as it began to chew away mercilessly at the edible messiness of tossed food. Indeed, Phillip was in two simple words, royally screwed, spell it out if need be! “Listen!” her eyes quickly darted back to the man of apron and large white hat as she snapped out that simple exclamation, “We need to stop your brother at all costs.” her mind raced about like a rocket ship at a track meet. All in all, she could only come up with one idea. “Do you have any frying pans?”

“Yes, of course. WHEE…” Jimmy halted, eyes wide in fear as he glanced about. “Oh, right, he’s not here.” to which he unleashed an exasperated sigh of overly good relief.

“Pardon.” Gina’s voice traveled across towards the lazy, hungry spider as she made contact with its small beady eyes. “Go into the kitchen to help him.” she commanded lightly. Her voice was soft-spoken and calm, but regardless of the deceiving tone, the green haired girl was indeed giving the little spider an order. An order to which the spider unleashed a fearful cry of pure, unbridled horror as it shook its head while its multiple spider eyes widened even more than they already could possibly be. Now that the terrifying, abusive human was away, there was no need to hide the trembling in six legs that were constantly threatened to be torn asunder.

“I can’t say I don’t blame the little fella. I’d be scared too if I were at the mercy of a nutcase twelve times my size.” Jimmy commented with a slight shake of his head, quirky thing though was how his enunciation of fellow was that akin to a mid western cowboy.

With a sigh, Gina approached the small spider calmly. “I know you don’t think that he cares. Maybe Phillip really does hate you.” to which the little arachnid nodded its head up and down rapidly. Gina’s face contorted into a look of worry. So much for playing the role of lady negotiator. “The point is, he needs you!” she practically shouted it. “It is certain that he needs you!” she almost consumed herself in this belief she was so convincing. “Although he may not seem to care, Phil…” it was at this she paused as a tap hit her shoulder, snapping her back into reality and focus. It was the food maker Jimmy. “What?”

He merely pointed behind him. “Look! You seemed to spark some hope! WHEE!” his smile seemed to show as fact that reunion of a bug and his boy seemed to be off to a good start, for scuttling along as fast as six short legs can carry, the little Spinarak scuttled right through the open door and straight into the kitchen. “It warms my heart…” the sane Jimmy grinned as he unleashed a laughter unbefitting to the fact that dishes were broken, families were breaking, and angry teens were getting trampled by slabs of wheeled metal. Not even Gina could not help but cringe at it. “So why did you send it in there anyway?” the Chef wondered. “It’s obviously not liked by its trainer, and will probably be clobbered and get ripped a new rear end by my brother.”

Gina smiled, almost grinning, nearly sending the man who laughed in the face of death into a few shivers of discomfort. “I have a plan.” she smiled. Giggles would have followed had it not been for the situation, but he green haired girl loved it when she had a well thought plan come to her, suffice to say, it was a rarity. “Well first, we need to find some frying pans…”

As calm folk planned, rage continued as white tile wall nearly met Phillip Molson backside first, as he halted the food cart as best he could. It was a relief that no food was onboard, or there’d have been much too much edibility bound havoc to deal with, and food for thought today was vengeance with a tall, cold, and corny glass of extreme pain. “I have nothing more to say to you,” Phillips voice was still cold, yet creepily soft-spoken for the rage boiling unhealthily in his veins. “other than that you die now.” again, his voice was calm, though his teeth were gnashed. He could hold back the fury of the voice box no longer “I’m giving you no last requests either!” he raged, blindly charging as though he could easily stand well against a man of greater age and no doubt more cunning.

Jimmy the psycho of course, did not flinch a muscle. Instead, his permanent grin remained still forever plastered upon his ring pierced face. Though his right arm seemed to rise from his sides and was indeed in a ball shape form, it was not clenched shut. “Battle me!” his girly voice rang out, followed by the Jimmy trademark laugh. It was clear, in his hand was none other than a poke ball. The red and white sectored sphere of metal technology was firmly grasped in the vile fingers of the murderer.

‘Battle?’ Phillip’s mind reeled at the thought. Of course! It was only rule number one of the purpose of training Pokemon after all. Still, the endeavor seemed quite risky to undertake at this current time. Then again... “Fine, whatever!” in spite of the lack of know-how, Phillip was in no mood to even consider reasonable thinking. Funny thing was however, the madman seemed to have some conniving plan up his tattered, and still blood stained sleeve… maybe.

“Oh goodie!” he cheered as though he were a five year old that thinks the world’s size was smaller than a hotdog. As always, the nerve wracking returned to Phillip in ‘double-whammy’ as the man of no fear unleashed his trademark line. “WHEE!” and the laugh indeed did follow. “Ehehehe!” he finished with giddy vigor, “Time to rumble, fight thingy!” his jumbled words made less sense than his demeanor.

All this time, Phil’s body shook, a tremulous volcano minutes from eruption. It was in his best interest though not to spew lava to cake the world in an inferno. “Just… be… QUIET!” his speech was slow, and low, until the boom at the end. Indefinitely, the word quiet was spoken quite loudly.

“Ooh!” the psycho’s voice was full of faux awe, though the true harshness within his sarcasm was lost to an empty void of raging thoughts. “We fight now!” he cheered as the poke ball in his hand was now slammed against the floor with a mighty force.

Phil’s eyes widened in horror as the ball gave way to the laws of physics. Truly, even this metal sphere would break under such mighty pressure. Yet, instead of breaking, the reinforced metal sphere touched down lighter than a pin drop. “How the…” he never got to finish his question at all.

From the now exposed insides of the unscratched sphere, the usual rays of red energy began to take shape. An odd clump of odd dull grey formed stood firmly on the kitchen floor. Its shape was that of a stone built humanoid, standing a foot and a half tall at most, and its muscles seemingly were well shaped. It was almost as though this creature was built of clay, for the odd globs of hands seemed to mold at their own accord to form whatever hand signals were needed. One thing about this odd beast though didn’t seem to be of its regular structure, and that was the long, thin rod of deep brown seemingly ‘sticking’ to it rounded backside. It too appeared to be of a clay structure, thinned out at one edge. Even the creature’s eyes seemed to be made of clay, but they were most definitely white colored eyeballs. “Claymore!” shouted the J man murderer, absolutely still in the ecstasy of blissful existence.

Phillip’s eyes narrowed as though he were trying to seem an intimidating threat but he was truly just deep in his mind, darting about for a plan that would never exist. ‘I have… no choice, or hope.’ he sighed. With demure sense of failing hope, Phil took from his pocket the only poke ball that was brimming with life and weight. “Well…” he sighed. “Seems I’ve gotten myself into a big time mess.” Oh what he wouldn’t do to be turning back time and stopping everything.

With those words, the blue crocodile of ill fated beginnings sprouted from a burst of pokeball technological energy. With a single syllable spewed forth from its raspy toned voice, it landed upon the red tiled kitchen floor gracefully, glancing about in cautious curiosity. A few quick observation on the part of the small reptile seemed to make the message quite clear: The call to battle had come! The gator was not but a manipulated soldier, and he was at the every word and whim of his commander, the human with a rage deep and unsurpassable. It was time to get down and dirty. “Kill it!” the gator’s human commanded with great disgust. All it got from the crocodile was a nod and an increased heart beat, racing the blood through its body with fear.

“Whee!” went Jimmy as he eyed the beast of clay. “We gonna have a good time!” he rambled, as the warrior of clay nodded its sculpted head and spoke its name again, its tone was calm, and its voice was accented with a pinch of Scottish. “We be starting!” Jimmy’s smirk seemed to become scarier than ever. “Slash it!” the crazy man had said, receiving no hesitation from the beast of clay earthliness.

The beast wasn’t exactly a fast creature with legs that seemed to hesitate leaving the floor due to theie sticky clay, but Phillip was practically ready to hate the gator once more. “Do something!” he commanded with rage, but all it did was get the blue creature to eye him, and hold up its arms in a shrug of confusion. Phillip still wasn’t understanding. “Use your claws or teeth!” he was practically as ready to kill the gator as he had been a day ago. “AHH!” he bellowed in rage, as the gator still didn’t do anything. “Are you too stupid to pierce with your claws or bite it?” his words were harsh and cold, but one of the words clicked in the gator’s mind, as it barred its teeth as water dripped down the from the longest fangs! It was ready to strike the unruly earthen warrior.

In spite of its lumbering, the beast of clay had not dawdled as it grasped the stick of brown clay attached to its back, causing the soft, squishy object to take shape as a sharp looking blade with a heavy size, large hilt, and a mighty blade. Truly, this mighty great sword was beyond the grasping capabilities of such a small warrior. Yet, hands too morphed swiftly, becoming just a bit larger. Forget the sword in its hand, those arms could smack down quite nicely on their own, though the arms seemed to thin out. No doubt compensation for the relocation of the clay. Yet, it held this mighty sword in just one hand. There was no struggle either as it lifted the blade to swipe at the gator, but the watery reptile had other plans as teeth sunk into a clay forehead, drawing no blood, and molding the clay. The warrior seemed hardly phased as it rolled its eyes, laughed its name heartily, and flung the gator off its head with a finger sling as though it were a mere spherical spec or particle. The creature’s skin still had the mark of toothy fangs clearly visible.

As Jimmy clapped and unleashed his accursed laughter, the Molson was further enraged. There was his Totodile, tossed about like a rag doll and flung to the ground. There was nothing but pain and aching in its entire body, but it was not ready to yield yet.

As Phillip was fighting, our devious planners were busy sneaking about. “Are you sure this will work? I hear the kid and he sounds really furious.”

“I’m not sure if this will work.” she spoke, peering the corner to see Phillip engaged in what, horrifically enough was a pokemon battle. “Oh no. He IS battling!” she was struck with horror. Phillip was for certain a dead one now. “Jimmy…” she turned around, but the chef was not there.

Instead, he had gone to the field to help the disadvantaged boy. “Phillip.” he spoke, coming to reveal himself from around the bend in the wall, “You cant expect to win by leaving a pokemon to its own devices. Try telling it what to do!” he urged.

Phillip’s mind was blank in shock. There he saw it. Two Jimmies, both so different yet exactly the same. All of this was practically an overflow in his mind. Two guys who could say ‘WHEE!’ Two guys with the insidious laugh of torment! Two guys who looked like the lowest of scum!

The chef sighed “Tell your Totodile to use something called water gun!” his eyes turned towards his brother. How odd it was to call a person such as him ‘brother’. It gave an oddly uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

Likewise, the nutcase eyed the chef as well. Ah, well, his mind was empty as you know. “Brother!” he smiled as he locked his brother in a most grizzly of bear hugs. “WAZZUP!” The psycho then shouted. Oh, of all the inane lines, this one was by far most cliché to ever spew from the vocals of the man with the heavily ring pierced face!

With a wince to his brother’s tight grip, millions of thoughts flooded his mind. Ideals were questioned, loyalties were debated, and after four seconds of brotherly squeeze, the sane Jimmy frowned to his younger brother. “I’m sorry…” he trailed, his left hand clenched in a fist so tight that it trembled, struggling to tighten beyond the limitations of the physical world, and all the anger had simply rushed right to the tips of his fingernails. “I think I’m going to have to not call you ‘brother’ any longer.” his eyes weighted down with the steel weights of guilt and sorrow. “I hear you did some horrible crimes, and took a person’s life…” another pause ensued as all living beings set their eyes upon the elder Jimmy as he continued his dramatic monolog. “You also tried to do it again, or so I’m told.” another pause, as the hint of tears reflected off of the bright lights of the kitchen. “I know you’ve had it rough, but I’m afraid I’m just going to have to call you a shame to our name.”

It almost seemed as though the little nut job had finally shown some form of emotion other than insanity, for his eyes seemed to water with tears. A shell of hidden, bottled up emotions finally broke as the shards of broken glass pierced the soul with a hundred pangs of sorrow. “I understand…” his voice was calm and low key, never a soul could expect this. “You want to battle me too! WHEE!” Then again, once in a blue moon when pigs fly, the wheels of fate have worked their cruel magic yet again!

From shuttered to wide, the older brother was greatly in shock. “I don’t believe it!” Fists trembled even more noticeably with rage as he spoke. “You mindless jerk!” his eyes redder than blood, and words thicker than it too, yet in spite of his renounced consideration of family, the fact remained, they were of the same blood, and he would dare not shed that blood, even in spite of his cruelty. “If battle you seek, then fine!” from the pocket by his side, out came something spherical. “It seems you really HAVE lost your mind.” The elder Jimmy sighed. ‘I wish I could bring him back...’

“Cookie Dough!” shouted the idiot Jimmy. He was indeed correct, for as disgusting as it was, the cook had pulled out a rolled up ball of white, floury dough.

“Ah, no wonder I couldn’t finish that cake.” the chef shrugged as he tossed it backwards. Concern towards the cleanliness of his kitchen was not present at the time. ‘I’ll clean that up later.’ went his mind as he stared down his ‘brother’.

Phillip however, could stand no more delay. Loudly, he cleared his throat as though mucus the size and sliminess of a gigantic slug was lodged in his throat. “Hey there!” his voice was loaded with faux calmness, and shifted all so suddenly. “I was fighting first! Back off!” Now he was angry. “This is MY revenge!” he yelled. Odd how one could be so possessive over the fate of a person they hate so much. “You can have what’s left when I’m done, if anything remains, that is!”

“Eh?” went the insane ring faced freak as he eyed the creatures standing there. “Whee! Take Down!” his emphasis was still as carefree as ever. It could be the end of the universe and still, there would be no fear on his face or in his mind. Then again, the freak had faced death head on, not even flinched in spite of bleeding and defenselessness, and quite frankly, as far as Phil was concerned, the man had no mind. He didn’t even shed a tear to cry.

The Molson boy was worried. It had been so sudden. ‘I should have expected something so vile from that sick freak!’ His eyes at long last returned to the beasts of servitude. It was odd that they did not fight on their own accord. Wasn’t that what they existed to do in a world dominated by humanity? Was not fighting their only reason to live? While humans lived their lives for what humanity was meant to be lived for, these… creatures, they did not make use of their time it seemed, and did not fulfill their purpose. That is of course, until the Jimmy had spoken to his creature of clay. That must have been it then! Phillip Molson had come to a conclusion, as odd as it may have been! Pokemon were like robots, needing to be controlled or else humanity would rot like the empty corpses they’d become without their easily controlled slave labor. That simply HAD to be the only way he could describe it. The thing is, he didn’t know how to give these orders.

As they say, he who hesitates has lost his chance, and as much as it wanted to just get out of the way, blue gators would not dare betray their vengeful masters, lest they be back at day one, a most gruesome day of hatred indeed. There was no escaping now, as the mighty bulk of clay was practically upon it, though it was by far not fatal. It seemed like all would be lost in this dark kitchen bound hour, even as single string of thin, silky white took shape upon the clay beast’s backside.

Dilasc

30th October 2005, 6:19 PM

I feel the urge to leave a fair warning once again. In later chapters there may be, and in a GRATUITOUS amount… astronomy, and Kertonmellian history! Oh well, if you’re offended by learning, then stop reading! Wait a sec, what the heck am I saying? Get back here! Anyway, this fic is rated IQ for uh… your IQ! Oh just read! Regardless, be on the lookout for some form of plot conjunctures. I will say no more!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 10: Boom, Straight to the Moon!

As fate raged on in the kitchen of intensity, a certain medical worker was busily on the phone. Relaxation was something that seemed so natural for the situation around her, yet here she was. “Oh… my… god!” and of course, it was a mile a minute per word. A little math would reveal that to be eighty-eight words a second, unimportant but always fun to know some simple math.

For the past fifteen minutes, while Phillip Molson had been walking a road of destiny along the endless reaches of his brain from killer to kitchen, the pink haired lady had been wasting her time away with small talk and words of nothing. This was, of course, a common occurrence amongst women when with their friends.

Subjects from some hot guy named Brad, after all, with a name like Brad, how could he possibly be ugly? Within the minute, that subject had ended as well, quite abruptly. It had shifted to talk of a lunar eclipse in the week to come… and rambled like the girls they were about how boring it would be. The moon was a place where life never was, so why bother to care about it. After all, is not that giant rocky sphere in the sky good for nothing? All it does is give the planet its rotational axis, therefore enabling seasonal changes and therefore making it possible for life as it was now… at a scene like this, one might feel sentiment for that big hunk of meteor pelted, tidally locked satellite, and understand why it would possibly want to escape the gravitational pull on such an ‘amazing planet’. In yet another second, talk became personal again, for nobody cares about some silly dusty stone in the midnight sky when they could be talking about their own personal and unimportant (in the long run) lives. Everyone would, after all, rather talk about BRAD, instead of contemplate the workings and mysteries of the universe.

Fifteen minutes, heck practically an hour had gone by, yet the pink haired nurse had been on the phone for hours on end, and all she had been doing was talking with the lady on the other end, although one had to wonder how so many words can be spoken in an hour, yet not even remember to mention the fact that a madman was running loose in a place for injured animals! But still, some sexy guy is far more important than the well being and precision in one’s career.

Who pray tell, was the lady on the other end of the line? Well, with the way technology had gone oh so far, the answer was always just in sight. On the other end of the line decked in formal uniform of the oh so commonly known lazy bums who wield those fun bashing sticks and know a splendorous spectrum of doughnut royal was a police woman, except she didn’t exactly look the kind to go on the powder jelly frenzy. With blue hair and a slender form, she hardly looked the role of threatening or to be an imposing power of justice. Regardless, this lady was not quite in need of a formal introduction much like Joy, at least if the name ‘Jenny’ rings loud, ear drum shattering bells of ‘Oh yea, I remember!’ in thickest regions of the human skull.

Much the aberration, and appalling behavior that it was, the blue haired law enforcer was as much the average gossip gal as the nurse. With ‘911’ as no good, what’s the world coming to?

“So…“ began Joy with yet more gossip. “Tell me how Jennycide went!” She asked. Ah, Jennycide, a day of reckoning. Many, many blue haired policewomen, and completely identical appearance defined the exciting nature of this family reunion, held in Yolving, a Region not too far from Kertonmel. “I want to…” Joy’s words were cut short with the opening of the front door. “Ah, hold that thought!” the nurse realized as her brain finally returned to the real world.

“Sure, maybe later I can show you that hot dress I just got at the contest.” the law enforcer smiled. To the young and na&#239;ve, as they say!

This new person to walk through the door appeared to be a boy. Perhaps no more than nineteen in age, a look into the light brown of his eyes could show you the world, and worlds beyond the world, and even worlds beyond those worlds too, though speaking to him might actually make you understand! To top his head, curled about in a splash of red was rather curt and slick hair. However, this was no mere red, it was the greyish red of freshly masoned bricks. If one were to rip the guy’s hair off, run away laughing like a lunatic, and then throw it against a brick layered wall, the hair may be lost… forever! With a rather calm stride, he approached the nurse at the desk. As the words began to flow, a voice deep yet calm filled ear drums. “Hello again!” and the words themselves were of that like a clich&#233; Viking, whose stories tell of men with great beards of oranges and reds, and muscles great and the power of the berserker. Too bad what appeared to be beneath a loose shirt the color of the reflection of dusts in the sunlit sky was skinniness, perhaps unhealthily so.

“Ah…” the nurse began, her brain racking for half a second, “You are… Verick? Right! You were here earlier, after all.” she asked. She had remembered him coming by before after all, at about eleven o’clock in the morning. Might as well make just a little side talk. “So… how was the… Space Convention?” That was what he had told the pink haired lady after all. No harm in that knowledge.

“Wonderful!” his Norseman vigor in his every word, “It was the most wonderful chance to look into, and scientifically discuss Saturn, I ever had!” As he spoke however, the nurse raised her pink eyebrow in suspicion.

A woman knows so many things, and even the slightest change in voice tone is noted like a high frequency sonar. “It was bad, wasn’t it.” That was by far not a question. Call it intuition, but the fact remains that Joy was making a firm statement.

“Horrible! A waste of my time now, ya!” the Norseman spoke again, heavy accent in full swing. “I learned nothing of Iepatus as I wanted to! A total waste! Yet they all talked about the amazing atmosphere on Titan as actually mattering, when everyone already knows about it!” he sighed. It was probably a total waste of time to tell her all this anyway. Why, or how could this woman know anything much about anything that even happens three miles above the earth’s surface? No, this would be a waste of time, for what much more did he know that could be said without raising any eyebrows? When it comes to the endlessness of time and light of the multitude of the universe, progress can be slow and unfulfilling, yet still they try. That’s partially why so few people ever seemed to concern themselves with anything but the air around them! Wonderful!

“I take it you’re here for your Clefairy?” the nurse asked, receiving a rather silent nod from the boy with hair of brick colored tint. All he wanted to do was get outside, find a nice and useful telescope, point it upwards, and from there, the sky would most certainly be anything but the limit! It would be the beginning!

“Ya!” nodded the Viking astronomer. What else could he ask for than his important partner in divulging space.

Of course, the magic of women bonding has, as stated quite blatantly, brings out the worst in them! It can also bring about more hormonal tendencies as well, though ever so faint that it’s hardly a concern for conservative people. Her eyes had wandered, and a boy with red hair, and what the traffic cop noticed to be a bit of stubble on his chin smirked. “Who’s the foreign guy?” she asked, her voice almost as though she was talking through a pair of most unmentionable lips of which no more shall be said, though those still in sight on the face was in a smirked most lastingly, if not exaggerated but a tad.

The nurse had once again been suckered into more gossip. “Just a space fanatic.” the lady in pink grinned, causing the cop to stammer, as facial temperatures began to rise a few degrees due to flustering.

The cop giggled. “Relax, cutie, I’m only joking! You’re not demonic enough.” she smiled, looking back at the nurse. “So how’s Jimmy?”

Unfortunately, that was when reality snapped back at her! “OH MY GOD! JIMMY!” she practically screamed. It was about danged time!

This would have been one of those moments. Those moments where a person screams, and suddenly you can see the fullness of the water covered sphere that is planet Earth, and then the telescopic camera lenses would scope even further, incorporating a cameo of the Moon, the noxiously cloudy Venus, and then zoom so far one would begin to wonder if life is truly insignificant, compared to the size of the universe.

At the closure of that simple interlude, we find the brother’s Jimmy in a conflict of justice, pie, brotherly love, family values, Pokemon, staring contests, and the whole nine yards, even if it was currently a situation of metric proportions. In short, the scene has at long last returned to where an unclenched fist of clay and moldiness was about to give a crocodilian victim of blue the slap down of its lifetime!

This was it! It was all over all so soon all at the fate of earthly soft, yet powerful fists formed of the moldy substance known as clay. A sculpted being of the finest craft would place a ceramic ‘smack down’, so to speak, on the misfortunate crocodile. It seems that Philip Molson was still in quite a bind.

There was no stopping this hand now as it enclosed upon the crocodile of ocean blue, the beast began a frantic panic. “Do something!” commanded the Molson boy! “Is it so difficult to think on your own?” he sighed. Such a change had been most unwanted from amazing brain, to hapless soldier. Too late, for a firm slap ‘splashed’ a liquid clump of soft clay about as the crocodile was smashed against a kitchen wall.

“WHEE!” went the eternal insanity of the cur of a Jimmy who deserved none less than a steaming lifetime as a torture slave to Hades! “Ooh, clay fun!” his words rambled on like the lunatic he has long since established himself as.

The forces of inertia favored the little Totodile right then as it somehow was still alive, and beyond that, still conscious. With a slight growl from the beast’s trainer, the demands resumed. “Gah! Stop sticking around and get back in there. Clean yourself off and make yourself a useful slave!” Phil’s rage was once again beginning to get the better of him, and he still loved all the anger!

Yet, what he saw happen next amazed him. The crocodile opened its toothy jaw, as though it probably wanted to bite something, but instead of lunging to sink into a foe, what appeared to be a laser of a bright shade of blue sprung from its mouth. The moment it hit a surface, it was crystal clear that it was water for it splashed about, causing the drying clay to soften, and break apart! With the chant of its name in a raspy voice, it nodded in confirmation that it was still ok to go on, even though Phillip was probably more clueless than inanimate scarecrow when it came to these beings.

“Did you see…” he spoke to the sane Jimmy, his head shaking as though he had finally lost his mind at long last. “It puked on itself!” How else could the ignorant Molson know how to explain it? After all, it was his first week on the job, a job that was meant for HER… may she rest in peace!

“Actually that’s natural.” chuckled the chef. “Though you should consider your Pokemon’s feelings. They are as sensitive as yours or mine… well, maybe not yours… but still, they are living beings. Maybe you should use that water on the clay creature…” the chef hinted ever slightly, yet it was more than enough to reap the flow of false hope. Of course, the words of love, and peace and blah-blah-blah were lost to a Phillip who simply didn’t give a darn!

“Slash im!” it was psycho Jimmy! The ring pierced man had given another order of attack. And charging forward with the soft clay feet slinking across the tiled floor slowly was the earth mold warrior itself, and its crafted sword looked poised and sharp. One fell swipe could indeed fell the blue croc in just one swipe!

“Get outta the way!” Phillip roared in command. He felt that simply scrambling to safety was an obvious idea, but not everyone was so smart. Fortunately, this time the crocodile came through as it sprung off the ground and leapt to the left. It was hardly a close shave however, the sluggish blob of razor sharp clay was by far not even swinging the weapon yet, that and reptiles don’t really have hair to speak about.

Of course, the nut-jobber of a human being who possessed the glob of moldy mineral was far from losing his cool, for he’d need to have some not so lost sanity beforehand, which is sadly lacked. “Body slammer!” the Jim-tastic freak commanded after a bout of his trademark laughter. Odd to the rather sluggish motions of before, with a push towards the ground and amazing torque, the beast of clay jolted maybe three feet into the air like a mighty yet ready to splatter catapult stone. This time, there was no avoiding any of it for the little gator and head on, the overbite reptile was slammed towards a cupboard of dishes, and the impact with such resulted in he inevitable breaking of some, causing cuts and a slight gash to cover the blue of its already battered body, a nice mark remaining at the left knee cap. Battling any further way out of the question as its chest heaved in and out rapidly, gasping for air amongst the clay and exhaustion and most likely even blood. In a battered, deep cough that would take weeks of heavy smoking to accomplish, blood was indeed in the equation as a small amount of red got caught up in an oral excretion of water. The taste of its own blood sent an unnatural chill through its scaly reptilian skin. Blood in itself was fine and dandy. A meaty helping of fish was often a bloody undertaking. Yet to taste its own blood, the crocodile did not feel well with the bitterness it brought with it. Were there no witnesses about, a warrior spirit would shatter for an instance and a sobbing and tears would likely follow.

“I don’t get it!” Phillip raged as his right foot slammed against the floor, giving it a slight pang of sleep. Fury was most obviously the most prominent part of his bloodstream at that very moment. “Why does this… gah!” he merely waved his hand in the air like a youthful tabby swiping at a string of yarn, while not even realizing its own strength. He was just too frustrated to even care any more as his fists clenched tightly and trembled with the urge to lunge at anyone who dared to be the next person to even breathe. “Wimp!”, to call him snide would be an understatement worthy of the moron of the year award.

“Call it back, Phillip!” the sane Jimmy said with an authentic Seal of Approval that basically smacked a sign on his head reading ‘Who Needs a Spinal Cord?’ Not that he couldn’t take down the boy had he the need for self defense. Heck, he wouldn’t even need to break a sweat, maybe a few bones, but not one droplets of perspiration would shatter upon the brownish red tiles of the kitchen floor. Suffice to say, not his own sweat.

If looks could kill, there wouldn’t be the need for Medusa stories. Yet even then, one is transmogrified into silicate rock, and a reversal process is bound to be uncovered… some day, maybe. While looks killed, expressions were to die for, as Phillip merely let out all his anger through his nasal passages, in the form of carbon-dioxide. While it green housed the atmosphere, helping to kill humanity ever the slow death they bring, it was better than ending a life right there and then. Thusly, like bull or dragon, but without the vapor, the Molson boy subsided ever slightly. If anything, Jimmy did indeed have a point. A growl of anger formed at his throat as to let the world know he was still raging mad, and nobody could do a gosh damned thing about it! Perhaps it was the anger of needing to be reminded what to do, for the Molson boy had indeed forgotten about that simple rule, but dared not let it be outwardly displayed anger at himself. With a gritting of his teeth, the red and white striped ball was suddenly clenched in his hands, as an ever well known photon of infrared light shot forward to dematerialize the blasted and battered crocodile until it was healthy enough to be whittled down once again.

In all this time, the insane Jimmy had most obviously been one to stick out like a sore thumb lodged between the cheeks of a sore anus, hopefully his own. “Ooh! We won! WHEE!” he clapped his hands weakly as he jumped into the air like a frantic loony idiot or a still immature five year old. “Boo yes!” he boomed, slamming his hands against his chest repeatedly Tarzan as voice box changing from scrawny child to testosterone heavy football player, yet never be the chance to score a touchdown with reality, and he was beyond his first down of… something that definitely wasn’t good for brain cells. “YEA! YEA!”

Yet, the clay sword beast simply rolled its eyes in a most slow and molded fashion. As it softly murmured to the world its name, the Claymore sighed in relaxation. Relieving it was, to now get to just continue lounging around in some portion of an immaterial world that was the Pokeball. It may not have enjoyed the insanity of the nutcase Jimmy, it surely didn’t care one way or another what the whacked out man did, so long as the actions did not harm anything dear to the clay man itself without extremely good reason.

It was at that point that a strange jolt of pain wracked the clay spirit and squishy soul most dearly. With a scream of pain, the mineral sword wielder began to loose focus, as it gritted its sculpted, uncolored teeth and clutched its back where the pain was sharpest.

“Uh…” Phillip was confused now, as he wondered what could possibly… that was when he noticed the now sturdy string of silky white. What he saw at the other end amazed him. It was limited impressiveness, but there was perhaps now a bit more a snowball’s chance on Venus to not cause enraged Molson at the drop of a hat. “Isn’t that my Spinarak?”

It was a dumb and obvious question. Of course it was his, for who else could it belong to? Yet, what he saw was truly amazing. The image was a sturdy string of bright white stretching a few yards across the kitchen, latching itself to the mineral form of the beefy slab of moldable rocks. Then, like a non lactose intolerant child drinking their ever sacred chocolate milk from a straw almost as twisted as the insane Jimmy, the spider’s head reared backwards ever slightly as slight slurping noises ensued. Its front left leg was extended, seemingly grasping the ‘straw’ as some possible form of semblance.

The taste of the absorption was not so bad. Liquids seemed to flow so freely like a liposuction treatment, and it had a natural taste like mineral water, or mineral oil, not like a spider KNEW what the heck such things were. As its mouth left the straw for a second, it chanted its name with its childishly light voice and followed it up with graceful manners by spitting out a bunch of small rocks. Pebble sized at their largest, they bounced against the hard floor with a rocky clank and gave way to inertia after a few bounces at most.

“I think that was absorb… or leech life. I forget.” the sane Jimmy shrugged with a follow up of the trademark laughter he overly abused so much. Phillip was snapped out of his impressed trance most easily with that and shuddered.

“Ah… ok.” he spoke unsurely. He had no idea what those words that were spoken even mean, or how they could possibly pertain to him. All he wanted now was to cut a jerk’s throat from out of the flab of his neck and take the voice box as well for safe measure. How else could it ensure that he could NOT speak any more words of venom, a poison to his very soul. After that, he could take out his brother as well in similar fashion. He’d kill two jerks with one knife, and since this was a kitchen, it’d be most likely there’d be more than twenty knives to be found, and even then, that’s already nineteen knives excessive of a job well done. Hallelujah!

The sharpness of the spidery vampirism had finally subsided from the mighty clay beast, and though he may have been insane, the beast’s trainer knew not to let up a good chance. “WHEE! Spin him round the world!”

Whatever he meant, the message was clear, time for the earthen beast do some web ‘spinning’ . With a grasp to the sticky web upon its back and a mighty tear, and a loud ripping sound the straw had been severed from its feeding host. From there, a fierce tug on the ropey string began to propel it with a great force like an expert rodeo cowboy, with its creator of a spider caught attached to the other end. The rotation and great momentum did not quite do much harm. A spider is after all, born ready to hang upside down from the branches of trees and defy gravity. However, anything gets hurt when slammed into a tray after such a great build up of momentum, only to land in an empty metal pot that barely squeezed the critter inside of it. With just a lid a suffocation process could begin, considering the fact that Spinarak was in no condition want to fight any more.
“WHEE!” screamed, love him and hate him, psycho Jimmy. Another victory was his to claim, and he knew exactly what he was doing, as far as the battle went. Otherwise, it’s just insane, unpredictable Jimmy doing what nobody expects, nor do they particularly want it at al

“I…” Phillip stammered, as though he was struggling to maintain control of his mind from an opposing force, a raging volcano! “am surrounded by…” he struggled still as he sighed, taking in a deep breath of air. It seemed all at once that he had finally chilled out with control of his anger. Then again, wait that such a miracle was better spent hope on something like surviving a twenty story fall into jagged silicate rocks at thrice the earth’s gravity, for it was then, in a mighty yaup of rage that the tectonic rage won out, “JACKASSES!” By and far, tectonic it was! With the outburst was included a tantrum, and its behaviors of jumping up with the force of a catapult and the downwards grace of an impacting meteor. Suffice to say, considering a creature made of flesh, all that truly happened was the clatter a few pots and dishes.

It was not as though the nutcase of a man was going to ever do anything to make things truly better. “Oooh, crybaby, crybaby! Hehehehahaha!” with the taunting immaturity of a toddler, and an exclusionary trademark laugh, it was nonsense as usual. “You’s such as wussy!” he unleashed his laugh yet again following that!

All the while, a clay beast was trying to tune out all annoyance between the childish actions of Phillip, and the childish antics of its own commander. Achieving equilibrium amongst the entropy is never easy, unless you can control the existence of your ear drums with a molded expertise. It would know when its trainer would need it again. Even a moron like Jimmy had some plans up his sleeve, and at a rapid tapping of foot thrice in a row lightly, it would know if it was needed.

The sane brother eyed the young Phillip. It wasn’t difficult to hate his demeaning and temperamental ways. The kvetching that boy could do and the violent rage that it bared was about the last thing a social beast wants to deal with to pass the time by. Its not like he could do anything about it. He was not exactly striking at anyone, and so long as it was just words, they could not hurt. ‘A lie I tell myself. The flesh may heal quite readily but there’s no true cure for a hemorrhaging soul!’ Complaining about one’s ability to not have control of the Sun was not uncommon amongst depressed individuals after all, and unlike most, the loss of a loved one, especially so close and younger than one’s own self, is by far one of the least selfish, and by far most understandable reasons to go into depression. Still, he could not stand to bear witness to his groaning. ‘Life goes on, and whether you decide to keep the pace or not, doesn’t matter one damned bit!’ “Calm down!” he snapped at the boy, suddenly feeling it would have been a fatal mistake. The fiery lava beginning to blaze in the angry youth’s eyes were not something to withhold fear from. “You… look, you go help your Spinarak!” he sighed. The poor creature was caught in between a rock and a hard place, and he didn’t know which one the Molson boy symbolically represented, if not both.

“Hmph!” went the angered growl of Phil’s still oozing boiled silicate rage.

“I just washed that pot recently… and I don’t think you want any permanent damage to the exoskeletal structure of your Pokemon.” His hopes for being on the dot were fulfilled, perhaps it was a stroke of luck, for the boy complied.

The sane brother sighed. Right about now, a blood leaking soul was indeed only getting worse at this moment. ‘I’m going to regret every action I do from this second and onwards.’ With an exhaling of air, he fished a poke ball out of his pocket. “Brother… it seems its now you and me.” A battle of love was about to be fought. The worst part was, he was not even going to be the one to take up the fight to bear physical pain to match his inner hurt. It was going to be his Pokemon. If anything else, then the chef figured it would be a good fight, at the very least.

Dilasc

31st October 2005, 12:06 AM

Well… seems to be a dry spell. Guess what though! We are now at the point where I simply MUST write in order to write new chapters! No more revising old chapters, or interludes to pretty things up. Now, actual chapters will be newly written... but why am I bothering to even mention this... well, other than my few readers... here's your next chapter folks! Enjoy it already and don't forget to review. And the actual journey will begin in next chapter, OR the one afterwards. Either way, it's back to the road, and the end of the murder case! Huzzah!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 11: Embrace of the Conspire

A smile gone bad contorted his face. “Well brother… I hate to have to do this…” it was Jimmy, the gourmet Jimmy. The sphere of red and white getting a caressing nine times over and then some as he swallowed his fate like a bowl of acidic soup in a cup of shattered glass, as the glass pierced his esophagus all the way down. “Let’s do this.” there was no enthusiasm, and if it was faked, there was no convincing in his tone. “Time to roll Chimrax! Whee!” In a flash of red photons, the draconic farm critter gone feline was unleashed once again as Jimmy growled slightly at his lack of control, fearing he may have gone a WHEE bit overboard.

“Oh goodie! A good fight!” to which the psycho mirror image unleashed a trademarked laughter. “Claymore!” he yelled, tapping his foot in a signal he used for better coordination between the both of them. The forever smile on his face only widened as he giggled. “You’ve been meditating! Oooh! Yay!” he grinned. “Start off with fury attack!” he commanded as his smile dithered slightly. It almost sounded as though he was to be serious about this.

The sane body double merely patted the beast on its draconic head, causing it to stick its reptilian tongue out spitefully at the other two sentient beings it shared its existence with. “You guys give it your all.” It was no time to stall, for a work of ceramic fists were headed slowly in a juggernaut of molded earth. “Dodge and start off with scratch,” the command went out and was followed immediately. As the fists of dried clay were mere inches away, a swift leap of catty graces swiftly brought the triple header to the air, lion’s claws sharp and ready to lash back against the unruly earth warrior.

A gasp of slight pain was elicited from the sword wielding beast, but it was not anything that could not patch itself up with the molding of the body. A smirk sculpted its way to the creature’s lips. “Follow up! Follow up! Follow up!” the insane Jimmy shouted as he suddenly became swift on the tips of his toes. “Mud Slap! Be-otch!” his voice changed, and suddenly he had learned the language of… Ebonics. From the sidelines, the thought of such a ‘gangster’ style for the loony dastard sent more shudders up Phillip’s spine than his scary laugh.

As quickly as they had hardened, hands had turned to drippy slosh which lashed out at the chimera once more. This time however, there was no need to move its slow body, as mud whipped the lion’s face forcefully. It reared its head back in pain as the goat screamed its two syllable name in fear. The lion was the main point of balance on the creature. It controlled the front legs and the cat graces. With it having clumps of clay, tiny rock and watered down minerals in its sharp eyes, it fell to the back legs ruled by goat and rather vestigial wings controlled by the draconic brain to bring things around. Suffice to say, with the angry thrashing of the lion that made up most of the body structure, things were going to be hectic.

“Stay calm boy,” went the sane Jimmy, now a bit worried. “you’re still two heads ahead of the game.” there was no telling what could happen now. He had to make the best of it until the feline was calmed down from a rage fit for a jungle king. “We might want to keep some distance so let it rip with flamethrower!” he commanded. The dragon’s head smiled as a slight stream of smoke escaped its nose. With a slight inhalation, flames red hot blazed from its mouth and nostrils. It would be like firing from a roller coaster however with a panicked lion to deal with. As the first beam of burning power spewed forth, the clay creature didn’t even need to flinch for the lion was really not letting the rest of itself have any easy time. A nice scorch mark however clashed poorly against the white of the walls, even causing a melt on an unfortunate tin utensil. Whatever it was, it was quite ready to be mixed with some copper and smelted into a nice bronze hat, fit for anyone with a fashion sense for heavy metals.

The second fire wasn’t quite as offbeat. “Lets have fun!” went the evil Jimmy as the fire came close to the groundling sword bearer. “Roll out, and roll him down. Whee!” the sudden swing of moods did not but further dissuade the hopes of recovering the man’s sanity.

Roll indeed went the clay beast. Its body swiftly took the shape of a perfect sphere. Though not without first getting a slight burn on its grayish body. The fire, unlike the rending of its body caused it to hop upwards frantically in this ball shape as though it were a Mexican jumping bean. The slight darkening from burns of not even half a degree did not stop the focus of the clay creature as it quickly picked up velocity and momentum.

“Focus!” the sane Jimmy snapped, forgoing his trademarks in times of desperation. “Hold it…” he paused, an idea came to. “Reflect, hurry!” at the command, the goat’s head snarled in focus as its willpower ushered up a force unseen, even as it had to deal with a dying down lion’s thrashing of empty air. A force which caused the squishy clay ball to go splat against its greater kinetic force. As odd as it was, it was there in his face. The clay ball had plopped like an egg breaking on the ground, or a water balloon to be more specific. “What? We won?” it felt so ironic a victory.

The oddness of the win was only furthered by the smirk on the insane Jimmy’s lips. “Aw, come out and play big brother!” pouted falsely the crazy body double. The pieces of clay began remolding once again, and though feeling a tad woozy from smashing stupidly into a wall, it was still rather pumped. “Maybe a funky sword dance will make you boogey!” and in spite of its odd wording, it was surprisingly a command. “SHAKE IT!”

With a slight rolling of the eyes, the sword master did as it was told, and whirled its blade in its hand like a wild buzz saw, yet was in total control as it pivoted its hips and legs in a spin, as well as a few funky dance steps. Yet at the end of the sacred dance, it merely smiled as a blue glow most unnatural enveloped the beast for a split second and a half.

The sane Jimmy was not quite as calm nor, ironically, not even half as collected as his nut job brother at this current time. ‘Lets see. If I let my guard down, I lose. If I don’t let my guard down, he’ll just keep having it dance until it can shatter the shield… which means I’ll lose worse. I wonder if I can dampen his plans… though I did do good with fire before and spidery leech life. I wonder…’ he sighed as he resumed mental pursuit of an answer. ‘Its my best shot here.’ “Flap up a whirlwind.”

The order was given as dragon’s head heeded this call. With a growl, it hissed angrily at the lion. In less than ten syllables by human speech standards, an angry soliloquy where the lesson of the story was mainly ‘Stop *****ing!’ seemed to calm the lion down, most likely by fear, even if there was still gunk in its feline eyes. Now with a stability, the creature was able to focus its wings, and with the starting of a few flaps per second to a great amount per second quickly enough, winds began to kick up as forks, knives and pots of all kinds swirled into the air.

Phillip had of course not been quiet during practically the whole fight. “I’d hate to be nearby wherever that stuff lands.” He was not going to flee though. The thought of a few sharp prongs raining on the Jimmy brothers was worth the pain he himself could likely receive.

The heavy load of clay remained sturdy and strong against the wind. “Oooh! Slap mud at the wind!” the crazy Jimmy, had another crazy plan. Indeed, mud swirled about the cyclone, making the kitchen even more covered in gray slop than before. “Oooh, big bro likes dust storms? Hehehehahaha!”

The older Jimmy simply grinned calmly. “Nope, but you’re leaving yourself defenseless.” it was true. A careful observer would notice that the clay knight looked less massive than before, if not only by a mere percent as its body, watery and lacking density seemed to deteriorate. “Hold the winds and torch it with flamethrower!”

The dragon nodded as it unleashed a beam of fire yet again. In oddness, the mountain lion also unleashed oral blaze as well. This time, it struck more fiercely against the colder watery temperature of the wetted warrior. As it forced a fast drying process, the beast was unable to cope with the pressure of the heat as it yielded back and solidified not of its own accord. It seems the tables swiftly turned. A slightly size lacking Claymore now wobbled, dazed from the sulfurous and burning scent “Finish it!” Jimmy commanded, “Body slam it!” To this, goat took the stage as its blunt, spiraling horns took the ready.

“Oh no!” went the fool brother! There was not a spec of fear on his face, not a deterioration of smile. “Latch on and go boom! Self Destruct!” With a clay sigh, the beast of earth knew its fate all too well. Molding up its long knife, it leapt at the draconic mountain beast and stabbed its sword into the side of its back. Though it did tear flesh, the stab was nowhere near fatal. It did however cause three very different tones of pained scream to shout out in unison, only to be silenced as the stony beast glowed in white briefly before taking a nasty plunge. Neither creature was conscious at the end of it all.

The clay beast looked as though a chunk had been torn in an ice cream scooper, and the triple header was out on its side, a bloody gash near its left shoulder, as well as other cuts as well. ‘What a disaster. Its so awful!’ thought Gina as she peered at all the noise, her plan was going to be a lot harder than she had once thought.

Silverware and pots began making most ungraceful slamming noises against whatever surfaces they could. Nobody had to be told to hit the deck to know to clear the area. In the end, it was a hailstorm of gray and prongs, especially as one of the large wooden spoons struck Phillip in the back of the head.

The clang of utensils coupled with the thunderous loud thuds of large pots and pans was a symphony of heat insulated chaos! The dents on the pans only made everything all the better to hurt the funding. Even the psycho Jimmy had moved out of the way, by his own accord as well. The most he suffered was a butter knife harmlessly bouncing off of the rim of his shoe. “Ooh! More fight brother! More fight!” his giddiness was practically immortal. “WHEE!”

Phil’s eyes however ogled something as it struck the iron tray cart that had run him over before as it lodged itself forcefully into the light metallic surface, poking itself through the bottom. It was a knife! A large carving knife, long like a saw, but sharp as steel. In the hands of a master, it could make just the right cut on a chicken leg, and could cut off its head in a precise slice as well, leaving it to run around headless for a most amusing, if not sickeningly cruel show. Ripping that psycho brother killer a new anus was quite a euphoric thought at the moment as the boy grinned wickedly warped by the ideal of salvation.

Had he cared, he’s have seen the beads of sweat falling from the wrinkling forehead of the insane one whom was his newfound life obsession of slaying. It was as though the man was having an insanity meltdown and every waking moment was now an effort to stay as crazy as one lets themselves out to be.

It may have not snapped one as unwavering as Phil, but it sure seemed a brotherly empathy was no boundary to the ways of fear and regression. “I know this isn’t you.” was a firm statement from the sane brother. “You know its not you. You’re just hiding behind a shell of regret and shame.” a seconds pause to catch a breath and a second more to sigh, and the Jimmy spoke once more. “I cant say I don’t blame you. In fact, I blame mother for everything.” as he continued, it looked as though the man with a spatula or two was on the verge of tears. “You know you done wrong. Please, you’re not only hurting yourself, but you’re hurting others.”

Even Gina had heard this, and in a swift turning of her green haired head, as though the eyes could hear what the eardrums could not, she listened close. Perhaps, she almost felt sorry. ‘Abusive parent I’ll bet. Just like dad.’

“Save the speeches!” bellowed Phillip, now knife wielding warrior of mass destruction. “Time to die!” and then he was off in blind rage. In fact, the rage was so blinding that he didn’t see the sneaker of a size ten shoe until after it had slammed forcefully into his stomach, for some rather gut wrenchingly agonizing pain.

As the chef looked down at the boy now reeling at his temporarily fractured body, he proceeded to snatch the knife back from the boy who had taken it. It was after all, his property. “I had to do that. Just can’t have you doing any more harm than the troublesome menace that you are.” he scoffed to the one he had pummeled as his gaze turned back to his brother. “As for you, what’s gotten into you bro? Do you remember who you are? Remember mother? She was a monster, a lousy trashy person. You didn’t deserve any of the abuse or mistreatment.”

Again, the crazy brother lost his composure, as though the psychotics was a mask of delicate, shrouding silk that was losing its potential. “N… no!” he weakly bellowed, no longer ignorant to the fears of reality. Waves of truth and realization smashed his soul, and shattered a frail conscious as the facts flooded his mind at a most rapid rate! It was clear now, he remembered everything. He remembered everyone. He even remembered their screams and pain, feeding on the agony to release stress in a most savage manner. Not all victims were humans, for even pokemon and other species lost their lives. Now the red of bloodshot was gone, replaced with painful tiredness and water from the tear ducts. “No…” was th last word that escaped his lips before nothing more than a symphony of bawling ensued. “I never…” his plea to who knows what of most simpering pity were lost, drowned in crying. Crying that a brotherly shoulder was there to use to support a body practically wishing it would no longer exist.

“There, there,” went the oddly, falsely calm words of the broken man’s older brother. “I know you did not mean a single one.” his words had not a trace of sarcasm. How could he let his brother down in his time of greatest need. “I know. I still do care about you, little brother.”

Through the sobs and emotionally haunting pain, the broken Jimmy spoke most frailly. “I… I didn’t mean to…” A pause ensued as he stared into the nothingness of a messy kitchen, a mess brought about by the destructive nature of insanity, “I can’t undo the past, and can’t take anything back, but I want to! I want to so badly and be the one dead instead.”

At that, a strangely out of place laughter ensued. It was eerily jovial, if not a bit sinister… it was the now recovering Phillip. Having not been unconscious in the least, he had been stunned and perhaps a bit short for breath, however “Hahaha! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but to have overheard everything!” he still cackled mercilessly, as though the overbearing tickle of dark tendrils flayed gently at his mind. “You think you can go loony one minute, then pull a total shift of character to fool me?” his tone became more serious, softer, and more venomous. “You cannot escape now!” he roared as the razor sharp knife he eyed earlier as the be-all end-all problem solver. “You better hope there’s no afterlife, cuz you’ll only have not so much time until I cross over to continue to make you suffer!” he roared as an embodiment of vengeful fury.

Gina however, had been no idle little lady, and in a heartbeat was no longer hidden from the scene. “STOP!” she yelled, dashing and even leaping a table to reach her destination, which was basically anywhere between Phil and the ruined Jimmy at all costs. In her right hand, she held firmly gripped a wide frying pan, a metallic object most smooth and lustrously cast-iron. All in all, the real function of said pan was a world of hurt, and that’s a surefire way to cook up trouble. As she stood now, facing Phil with a pained look of regret, but a shamefully determined posture to go with it, she sighed, and then spoke “Phil, please, don’t.” The words were soft-spoken, a tone seemingly unbefitting for the chaos of the room. “Is this really want you want?” to which Phil gave her a look of irritated nature.

“No…” he replied, faux generosity dripping from his every word so blatantly, “I want to love his sexy body and make sweet, GOD DAMNED BABIES!” his gradual calm died quickly as the red anger returned to his eyes, skin and boiled his blood to clenched fists at the end of his sarcastic speech. After all, he had only been itching to leave this man dead or begging for it since yesterday, and by now, the likelihood of a drastic change without any outside influences was surely impossible. “Oh wait, isn’t that what he tried to do to YOU?” he extended a pointing finger of persecution fiercely at the green haired girl as her eyes watered into mud.

The chef Jimmy had about enough of this. “The death of your sister hurt you greatly.” he stated as a matter of fact. “You feel a sense of loss and despair.”

Phil snorted like a feral boar at that, continuing his rasp tone. “Why yes, how observent, I only said that, what? Only about eighty times! Do you wish to stall me any longer?” as his left foot tapped the floor impatiently with force. Had he used even a bit more energy in the tap, it would surely look like a one legged foot slamming temper tantrum.

“Phillip!” Gina yelled, practically out of calmness, “Don’t you understand basic morals? If you kill him, then what of Jimmy’s family? Would they be partying over his dead body like you would be doing so lonesome as you eat his flesh to enjoy the sweet taste of victory and drink his blood?” she was practically scolding, but the fear from the largeness of the pupils ensured she would not get too abrasive, lest a short temper leave an injured girl or worse.

“Eat his flesh you say? Wonderful!” he cheered, actually happy at the thought. “I’ll remember that, it’s only twenty seconds away from whenever you people stop getting in my way!”

“You don’t get it! Damn it! What if with his death, Jimmy’s chiefly brother follows your footsteps, and then you die! Then, let’s say someone in your family lashes back. We have a battleground that only leaves suffering and misery for everyone in its wake.” she blinked a few times rapidly to hold back the water that threatened to reveal weakness. “Is that… is it what you really want? If it is, then you’re going to need to go through me.”

Phil’s eyes widened at this, but the red cracks along the pupils of blooded rage remained. There it was, betrayal! There was no doubt about it in his mind without even a second reconsideration. The girl stood in his way, and she was armed as well. “Traitor!” he literally spat on the floor, mustering as much mucus as he could for extra flavor. “You stab me in the back after I save you from getting your *** stabbed in a way I don’t think would leave you braves to do anything more than live under an undeserved self morbid fascination for suicide! ” he chuckled coldly at that poor, if not sick innuendo. “I saved you because I cared, and hoped we could be friends. I guess your true color is shown, and its as ugly as you are! I guess if you want to stab me in the back, then maybe I won’t have any need to feel guilty returning the favor.” Had he been any less agitated, he’d have suffocated to death to merely begin saying these horrendous bouts of blasphemy. These words to a girl younger and probably frailer than him, but that was not the case as at this state, he felt he could rip a blanket made of hardened diamonds, if such a thing could exist and leave its extra pressurized crystallized carbon fabric disintegrated as papery shreds. A girl he felt he may have felt a physical attraction to… far outweighed by the extremist differences of beliefs and morals.

Gina’s patience was on a thinner than-a-fly thread barely holding a giant boulder over a deep chasm. “You don’t mean that!” she snapped. “You don’t mean any of the words you’ve said. You’re full of crap! You just want me to believe you, but I know you‘re just scared. Scared of how inferior you feel. I can tell, and you‘re lying to yourself.”

It was at this point that the Molson boy could stand no more. “You’re just an uptight *****!” his anger fed him the words. Extending his hand, he lashed out to give the girl a swift backhanded slap. The hand however, never reached its target as her arm extended in a rising upper block. Phil was enraged, if not a bit astonished.

“When you live with a father who’s violent alcoholic, you tend to learn a few things to defend yourself!” the girl retorted now harsh toned herself. “Maybe you live in your perfect caring family, but I’d trade my hair to hear my father say the words ‘I love you.’ and mean it!” she could not hold back the pain and salted tears any longer, as her composure broke.

But this did not break Phil at all. “Do not think I am stupid!” he roared at Gina in spite of her tormented now spilled bottled up feelings and secrets. “I have met your father, and he is not a bad man. I know this, and know you’re trying to pull off some scheme here. It wont work!” he contemplated the thought of taking another unskilled swipe at the girl, but decided not to for now. “You wont feed me more lies of this conspiracy!”

“I thought you of all people know the working mind of the actor, or is that not one of your grand dreams any more and would rather fester in prison?” she hissed, a tightening knot in her stomach pulling at her all the while for even thinking she could utter such rage, and that the monster that everyone has inside them may be trying to break free in spite of strong will.

The crying, once insane man spoke up, afraid that the tendrils of death would envelope him, but he spoke anyway. “It was when my hateful mother tried to hurt me as she usually did and I could take no more. I accidentally struck too hard and killed her in the process.”

This of course caught Phil’s attention in a heartbeat. “Oh, so the monster now admits even more crimes. You deserved all the pain your mother gave you, you rat *******!”

“******* indeed… wanna hear a story?” the older chef sternly agreed before harshly laying down some facts, without waiting for confirmation. “You see, in spite of having a loving father, our mother was promiscuous, a dirty *****! I was of true genetic backings from both parents. It was apparent in my brother’s blood type however that he was not. Dad was B, mom was O type, but Jimmy was A type blood. In anger, dad up and left with a feeling of betrayal. The strange thing is, the courts did not give him custody. He wanted us both, even against the issue of genetics, since we were still his children.” he sighed, the details of this story were always hard to digest, but even more difficult to actually regurgitate. “Dad brought home the real money that let us get by. Mother’s prostitution was never a moneymaker, and as such, she felt hate. Hate for the child that dared to be born to give away her promiscuity, after her false promise not to do so any more. She missed our dad, not out of love, but because he kept the family financially secure. Now there was nothing left to do but hate the child that caused him to leave. Hate the mere baby that was my little brother. I was treated fine, but he would be nearly starved, only fed to keep him alive. I’m guessing he was probably some stress reliever, if his death was prevented. I did all I could to help my brother, even when mother threatened to disown me!” he sighed, taking a breather from this long speech, yet unable to bawl out into tears, even if he wanted to. Sometimes, there are times that tears would never suffice, regardless of situation. “Suffice to say, it was me who committed the killing blow. It was something I still don’t regret! She was a piece of true and honest to god !” he clenched his fist. “I cannot let you hurt my brother. When the police arrive, I will be telling them everything that happened here.” he paused as he pat his brother soothingly on the back in supportive embrace. “And I will, like in the past, support my brother, even in the face of death. Even against the law! Then again, I guess you know family loyalty, but to you, boy, its as thick as blood, and nothing else!”

An hour or two passed. The cops had arrived on the scene of the crime. Questioning was in order. The blue haired woman who had spoken to the nurse on the phone glared at the elder, chef Jimmy. “Well, this is all very difficult to digest, but your brother may need to be taken into custody if you can’t find someone for him to judge him for a redemption quest.” She paused, sighing as she knew what he would say. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think leaving him in your care is the smartest idea.”

A redemption quest... it was, the chef’s idea for his younger brother to take it up, and in spite of its name, was less of a true quest, and more of a form of proving one’s innocence. It was for criminals who were probably worthy of a second chance. Such as those who were only committing crimes under a will not their own. The younger Jimmy was, at least according to his older brother, worthy of this journey of redemption. “Look at him!” He said, as his eyes were in a serious and saddened tone as he addressed the blue haired officer.

To his right, the ring faced man sat there, crying, his knees curled upwards with his head held down in shame. He looked so weak and helpless, as though he wanted to die, but not by his own hand. The older brother spoke again. “Does this look like the man who would benefit from jail?”

The officer sighed. “No, it does not.” She had to admit, even rehabilitation would never be as befitting for someone like him. He was lost, and broken. He needed a reason to live. He could be able to do good things with his life if he were given the hope for a future and a tomorrow. Either way, “But the justice system calls for some form of punishment!” The officer stated sternly, only to sigh a second later. “I will need to hold him in custody until you can find someone for him to take him on his redemption quest. Family members are not allowed to be the redeemer, due to their likelihood of supporting the criminal in question. You have a week before I send him off.”

“Officer!” chimed in the voice of a young girl. “I’ll take Jimmy on his quest.”

The officer and chef both whirled around, only to come face to face with green hair. The chef was a bit taken aback. “Gina? You want to?” The girl simply nodded, her eyes proving how serious she was about the idea, even after the younger Jimmy had nearly done her... and done her in as well.

“Yes I do!” she replied. “I know what its like to have a cruel parent!” Her eyes watered as she gazed downwards. “I don’t want to see anyone else suffer from such a fate. It’s not entirely his fault.”

The older Jimmy smiled, as he put a hand on her shoulder, and knelt down to meet her at eye level. “Thank you!” he gasped, “Thank you so much!”

nintyweb

31st October 2005, 11:06 PM

Wow, incredibly nice - and speedy chapters. Your writing style is great; it keeps my attention with interesting and often humourous clauses contained within the impeccable description. And whereas with most quality pieces of work a wait is normally required, this breaks that rule, with more and more chapters whenever I check it.

And to think last time I reviewed I only gave it two thumbs up... stupid bodily constraints...

On the mistakes front, as I scanned through the chappies, I found a number of words with only one letter in the place of two, for example "fueling" in the place of "fuelling. I'm guessing that can be attributed to general typo-ness though.

I think there were a few other small, insignifigant typos, off of the top of my head things like sulphur with an 'f' and oesophagus without an 'o'. Can't be bothered to find 'em now though.

I didn't quite understand this sentance either:

The kvetching that boy could do
Well, to be correct, it wasn't the whole sentance I didn't understand - just a word, the word in question being "kvetching". I'm assuming it is a word, but what does it mean exactly?

And the sentance...

against its greater kinetic force.
...was a bit strange, as kinetic energy is movement energy, and the barrier being stationary would have none.

The final major thing was ending the question below without a question mark:

How could he let his brother down in his time of greatest need.

Meh, anyway, with that out of the way, I can now focus on my favourite bits of these chapters, namely:

<Ah, I remember that. He fear in the sacrificed camel was pure GOLD! Besides, I’d say they look better with shorter, stubbier legs!>
Heh, that was pure lol-age. On a serious note though, I just realised that 'He' should probs be 'His'.

It was hardly a close shave however, the sluggish blob of razor sharp clay was by far not even swinging the weapon yet, that and reptiles don’t really have hair to speak about.
A prime example of what I said at the beginning, this is why I love your work so much.

“Mud Slap! Be-otch!” his voice changed, and suddenly he had learned the language of… Ebonics. From the sidelines, the thought of such a ‘gangster’ style for the loony dastard sent more shudders up Phillip’s spine than his scary laugh.
And then this bit just cracked me up; I got an image of a madman saying it and just laughed. Oh, and its spelt "gangsta' " :P

So, yeah, to wrap it up (or I could rap it up in gangster style if you'd prefer...) you've done a great job, and, er... I told you I'd go all in-depth-y next time - or this time as it is - or rather, was - now.

^ Yeah, I confuse myself as well... :S

Dilasc

1st November 2005, 9:46 PM

Nintyweb: Ah, you are the mysterious two-star man, eh? Meh, well, no biggie!

Anyway, I figure I post a bit more statistics about Gretkan and its solar system around Lylirac (the system's star).

Gretkan has many moons. It is after all, a large rocky planet, and thusly has an immense pull of gravity of debris and asteroids. After all, when something the size of Jupiter is three times as dense, you get a strong pull. The surface of the planet though is not too heavy pull, fortunately for our Occultists, and as such, please step away from a possible plothole NOW, and forget that it even matters.

Most of Gretkan's satellites are small and asteroids, without a spherical shape, and probably no name. There are however, 5 major moons that are large and worth mention, and about 6 more that are fairly big.

The closest is Luuro, a smallish moon that is about slightly larger than Pluto. Luuro is mostly just a large rocky surface with no atmosphere, but there is believed to be water on it that has remained frozen for eons. Rarely does this water melt, unless struck by an asteroid or meteor, but it is definitely there. This rarely happens to Luuro, because the larger and further moons often pull in these space rocks instead. There are signs of erosion on Luuro and craters that are unchanged for many millions of years, but for the most part, Luuro has an unchanging surface and watery ice that rarely melts. Luuro is a little under one hundred thousand miles away from the Gretkanite atmosphere, and appears as a large ball of white in the night sky.

Vryunp is next after Luuro. Vryunp is a rather simple moon. It is only a bit bigger than Luuro, and is dead and without any atmosphere. However, Vryunp has one interesting feature, it is VERY dense. It is believed to be made of heavy metallic elements such as copper, lead and iron. It as such, has a strong gravitational pull, but when space debris impacts with it, it makes small dents. Vryunp is a very bright satellite due to its metallic reflection, making it appear like a bright, silver blip in the night sky that appears as though it has dents. Vryunp is known as the dented moon, and has cracks in its metallic surface from being at such low temperature. Vryunp is in a locked orbit with Luuro, almost ensuring few meteoric impacts. Vryunp is about twenty thousand miles away from Luuro, and is sometimes hidden behind the other moon.

The next of these large moons is called Dorgma, which has nothing to do with Dogma in any way shape or form. Dorgma is fairly dead, much like the moon in our sky, but it is interesting in that Dorgma has a green tint to it, and what appears to be canals, ditches, and caves. It is believed that Dorgma once had a breathable atmosphere with life. The going theory is that it was slowly being drawn towards Gretkan, and as it did, it's atmosphere was sucked away by the larger planet, leaving a dead world, much like the moon. There are patches of dead grass, and Dorgma also very slowly rotates like a regular planet. It is about ninety-three thousand miles further way from Vryunp and it is believed to be drawing in closer. Dorgma is almost the size of Mars, but is not the largest lunar object in the Gretkan satellite system. Dorgma is a highly debated satellite amongst the Occult, because due to its closeness to the planet, there is something that seems amiss. Either way, it is the largest object in the Gretkan night sky, appearing a sickly green with many craters. It is believed that Dorgma is drawing slowly closer to the planet, especially with its backwards orbit going clockwise instead of counterclockwise. It will either, after billions of years, collide with Gretkan, or form a set of greenish rings as the satellite breaks up under the immense gravitational pressure of Gretkan’s atmosphere.

Well, that’s all for now. I won’t be able to work on my chapter foir a few days, since my regular computer with the document is inaccessible for now, so I decided to keep you readers, and you MANY closet readers entertained because I care. So have fun with your new lessons on the Lylirac system and Gretkan.

I also figured I'd write a preview summary for the next chapter.

Chapter 12

The murder case is over, and justice has been served. The problem is, not the way Phillip Molson would have wanted it. Now, the murderous Jimmy has been given a chance for redemption, and all thanks to Gina. Phil is now alone, and feels very betrayed.

But what of Verick, the norseman astronomer with brick red hair, and what of Phil's lack of Pokemon training skills? Is this where Phil heads off on the road... alone? Tune in and find out!

Dilasc

2nd November 2005, 6:24 PM

Well, since I won’t be able to get to my main production comp, I decided I’d write up a new interlude here and now. This chapter features... a Rattata and first person perspectives. How fun!

Dust to Deceit

Life is filled with oddities. In our near eternal existence, you might be surprised to hear this from one such as me, but sometimes, I wonder if there are things far greater, far more powerful, and deadlier. It is a big universe, and I can only fly so high! What is out there, just beyond our reach?
-Moltres, from the Book ‘Mind Set of a Featherbrained Phoenix’

Interlude 4: Chew the Rat With Me

The drippy leaves and wet grass chill my paws slightly as I creep slowly through the lush forest. My breath heaves heavily as I pause to catch my breath. Most look at my purple fur and curly tail and look at me as a maggot, but to be honest, I could care less about that which humanity has to say about me, since I am not subjected to their whims and control.

I am a Rattata, and though most would call me and my kind ‘pests,’ we are crafty and adaptable. How else would we manage to find any habitat suitable, from the darkest caves, to the tundra. We are strong in numbers. Numbers which we ensure are made as constantly as possible.

Regardless of our numbers, I have grown sentimental to one of our kind which hatched from my bloodline. He is my son, and is the best thing I could have asked for... not that I ever ask for much anyway. In fact, besides my child, I am a loner, and my son makes me proud as a lone hunter as well.

Within a few seconds, my son has dashed to my side. His long fangs bared, as he roars, then closes his mouth to smile as he awaits the scatter of frightened prey. They say our kind eats anything, which is only partly true. We eat many things, and in return, we are able to live in places that you humans could never even fathom. Still, we prefer meat, since we are, mainly carnivorous, as if the fangs weren’t enough of an indication of that.

<Bah!> My son growls. <Nothing here, dad. What gives?> He frowned, eager to catch a nice juicy Pidgey, or anything we could get our sharp fangs on. We’re not picky, really, since, I’ll reiterate for the ten millionth time thus far, we’ll eat almost anything! I feel like a broken... uh, well... what do you humans call those large, black doughnuts that make funny noises again? Yea, I feel like a broken one of those, cracked to pieces and just... uh, well, I have no idea what they even do, so I might as well let this subject drop.

My son’s mouth chitters calmly as he scratches at his nose and whiskers. The boy’s quite a spirited one, and I’m glad to call him my son. He is, after all, unique, as am I, for you see, we were both born with the ability to breathe fire. I’m not too sure how. My mother died some time before I hatched, and apparently, from my genetics, my son has attained my power.

This is hardly a bad thing to have, but most other rattata are wary of us for this simple fact. I’m not sure where I got it, but it certainly helps me fight, and Pidgey taste better when they’re medium rare, and they’re healthier too.

<Relax son.> I reply calmly, yet cautiously as I sniff the air. We are small creatures, us Rattata, and we sometimes must fight beasts thrice our size, from Pidgeot to Growlithe, we are a common prey to many creatures. Still, we persevere, because we make numbers, and with many of us, we are powerful. <Huh?> I belt out as I hear a familiar sound. It is not too loud, but it chills me to the bone. It is the howl... the howl of a Houndoom, and it sounds close. <We must move now!> I hiss to my son, as my curled tail stands on edge.

He nods as stands ready to run fast and far away. <Right, dad! Let’s go> I do not think he has heard the howl of the demonic wolf, and I am thankful for that. Houndoom are deadly beasts who kill for pleasure as much as they do for the food. They are not common in these parts, but when they are upon you, you know pray for quick death. Since these dogs are satanic beasts, it is usually drawn out and slow as they laugh at your burning body.

We run as swiftly as our small legs can carry us, which is thankfully very far and very fast, yet as I sniff the air amongst the underbrush of the forest, I catch the scent of burning and of dog. When together, they repulse me to my stomach, and my will to hunt is suddenly gone at least until later.

<What’s that smell, dad?> asks my son curiously, I think he is somewhat scared. No, this is not good. I have a bad feeling about all of this, and I suddenly stop in my tracks, and my eyes widen. My child looks back at me, as he remains running, a concerned look on his face. <Papa?> he asks, concerned for my health.

<LOOK OUT!> I screech at the top of my lungs, as a ferocious, black jaw lunges at my son from behind a thick patch of extra-tall grass. It is too late though. Time slows down, and everything feels so painful. As the teeth sink into my child’s neck and chest, I feel as though it is me being eaten instead... slowly, from the inside.

I want to scream, scream to make the black, leathery hide beast stop... but I can’t. This black beast with skeletal markings from hell just made a snack of my son. I snarl, and my claws dig into the dirt, as my spine tingled with fear and tension. I could feel the breathing of the beast as it chewed at the lifeless body of my offspring, and wanted to strike, but I was struck first, with fear.

The dog looks at me, its horned head rearing backwards as it glares at me. <Ah, another rat. How fun...> It grins, eyeing me up and down as though I were a piece of meat (not that I wasn’t in this here scenario, but it’s still a bit degrading.)

I snarl at the creature as my eyes, I’d swear I were going crazy, began to glow deep red, and in a foolish move, I unleashed a stream of fire at the hell hound, the flames taking on a circular shape, much like the human ‘wheel.’ As it struck the creature, the beast’s demonic eyes widened as it wagged its thin, pointed tail. It was hardly even fazed by one of its own element.

<Ah!> It grinned. <Yes! I understand now!> It grinned, laughing in a deep, cruel tone. <You must be one of my offspring.>

The houndoom laughs even more sinisterly, as it grins. <No, I am not mistaken. I get the strange feeling that I am eating my grandson.>

<Sh... shut up!> I roar, my voice quivering as I do.

The hound grins. All this while, he has been talking as he chewed the hide of my son. The blood on its fangs sickens me to my stomach. I’d vomit if I weren’t too afraid to even MOVE.

<I am certain of it!> The dog states with assurance. <You see, there are few Houndour in this area, and as such, my bloodline runs thin... but I am no fool! I know that even lesser beasts, even you ‘rats,’ can grow from my bloodline and continue my legacy in a twisted way. After all, it’s why I raped your mother!>

My eyes widened! If what this demon was saying were true, then it would surely urge to jump into the canine mandibles of ending and join my son immed... NO! I can’t give up now! I CAN’T! If I would, I’d be the worst rattata ever to exist. My cursed blood was a challenge, now more so than ever, and I would climb to beat that challenge at all costs! <You will die!> I snarl, angrily, but I am still terrified as I speak to the beast three times my size. I must kill it, I must... or I would no doubt be its next victim!

It laughs at my fear and stammering threats. The cloudy grey sky suddenly feels three times darker, and my world looks so bleak as well. I... I’m terrified, but as my claw grasps the ground beneath, I swallow my pride, and the big lump forming in my throat, and snarl! <*******!> I scream, as my tail stands on edge, as I run at the beast blindly and fast!

I strike at its chest, and the hell hound seems a bit startled. With an evil chuckle, the beast tosses my son’s dead body away. I can see the bones beneath its chewed away flesh, and it is covered in blood. No time to get caught up in my pain now, or that’ll be my fate too.

With a quick leap into the air, I avoid the jaws that would surely seal my fate, and strike back with my fangs, sinking into the creature’s leg. With a howl of pain, the beast shakes its left, and now bleeding paw to get me off, but it does not work. It is then that I feel the razor teeth upon me. They do not sink in, thankfully, because I dashed away as fast as I could, but they still left a scrape on my now bleeding underbelly. I am still alive, and want to remain that way.

Unfortunately for me, the hell spawn had other methods of fighting than tooth. I had almost forgotten about the fire... my fire inherited from that basta*rd who calls himself my father! His flames are intense and strong, and as I run, they follow me as I attempt to jump above, and to the left. I am pelted with a burning pain for about two seconds, and then fall to the ground, my body burnt and in pain.

The houndoom approaches me,. A grin on its face, as its tongue lick menacingly against its lips. “Well now, I see the Rattata are not worthy of my noble bloodline. A shame really.” He grins, no doubt this is my end. I shut my eyes, unable to bear the sight of even my own death.

That’s when I felt it... calm, and wet, and repetitive. Rain! Yes, its raining again, and I can easily see the houndoom snarling and reeling back in pain. It is a beast of hellfire... I guess it is hurt by water, and badly at that!

<Gah!> It snarls in pain. Its voice was no longer filled with twisted and malicious exuberance. <Damn rain!> It snarls again, <You... you are lucky to escape here today with your life!> It tells me. I must wonder though if I really am. That was the end of my son, and now I am... I’m alone! Don’t you understand how painful loneliness can be. I could always make a new son, right? I could always wash away my sorrows by spreading my cursed Houndoom genetics, only to pass on the curse of hellfire.

Maybe this wild life is not for me. I must get stronger! I think... maybe I should find a human owner. After all, they give their Pokemon a purpose to their lives, and provide ‘love’ of sorts, and they empower their Pokemon with strange powers in the form of glass doughnuts, smaller than the kind I mentioned before. They’re also of a brighter color than that one I called broken.

I look over my injuries, as rain pelts me calmly. I am bleeding and burnt and injured. I’m not too sure a human wants a tattered creature, so with that, I get to work, licking at my wounds. I will wait, perhaps closer to civilization... where I will find myself many humanoids. Their strange customs confuse me, but mark my words, I will find one, and in due time, I will return stronger... strong enough to finally exact my revenge!

Jetx

2nd November 2005, 8:25 PM

This fic is VERY professionally written, keep it up!

Saffire Persian

3rd November 2005, 10:19 PM

What an odd occult, that's all I have to say; but on that note, it's completely original, and makes them seem more maniacal then had it been some team like Aqua or Magma. Kudos to you.

Still, I doubt the sheer strangeness I experienced when I first read the dialogue. But it's part of your style... and I'm intrigued on where your going to go with this "planetary" occult of yours.

One line in particular sticks out:

Great nuclear reactor in the sky,” he began, “bringer of daylight, heat, life, and skin cancer!”

Very true. And I doubt I'll ever look at the sun the same way again.

As far as mistakes, I could spot none in this interlude.

Dilasc

4th November 2005, 8:42 PM

Jetx: Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Saffire Persian: Tsk, tsk. You should not be looking at the sun in the first place. Eh, sorry, couldn't resist! Yes, the Orbital Occult is fun, fun! They are different, in that they don't seek control through Pokemon... or, well, to say more would be a big spoiler.

I decided to post another interlude. This one may be of a more comedic nature, but it’s still got a purpose. It features my personal favorite Kanto bird.

Dust to Deceit

Hello there, little creature! How nice of you to survive our magnificent storm! Perhaps, you would like to be honored, as a sacrifice, and honored you should be. It is not every day that one is hand picked by an Oni! Be honored, little camel.
-Spookoni, Three Seconds Before Invoking a Curse Upon All Camels

Interlude 5: Sweet Dreams, a Bird of the Flame

Proud, fiery wings spread wide, as an equally fiery bird’s mane stretched and shook. Any man, should he earn the chance to gaze upon such a mighty beast, would be honored to be in the graceful presence of the Kanto legend, Moltres, pheonix of cleansing fire! With a loud avian squak, and a stretch of its wings, the avian of flames glanced about cautiously. It’s surroundings were a complete mystery to the beast.

The beast was... well, nowhere. Though it looked as though it was standing on solid ground, the universe around it was pitch black, and even the brightness of the bird’s wings revealed nothing of it’s surroundings. Yet, following a quick jab of its beak to scratch at its golden-yellow underbelly, something was suddenly standing before it.

This... creature, as it seemed to be, was odd. It looked almost human, as it sat in thin air, levitating in place. It’s body was unclothed, but it hardly seemed to matter much to something like the legendary Moltres. It’s skin appeared blue, like the bright sky, though closer to a periwinkle shade. It’s feed and hands seemed to lack the appendages that made human hands so advanced, as they stayed around the body, crossed as though it were cold, or hiding something on its chest. This led Moltres to believe that the beast was a girl of sorts, but then again, the beast of the flame had no clue what this creature was, or even if it had a gender.

It’s black, huge eyes reflected the bird’s image nicely like a darkened mirror, as its small mouth opened and spoke in an effeminate tone. “Ooh!” it started, sounding in awe. “You is Pretty Bird!”

The flaming legend gazed at the weird creature before him. <Uh, thanks... I guess.> It wasn’t sure whether or not the humanoid enigma could even understand it, but it spoke the language in its bird squak anyway.

“You no guess!” the blue humanoid said with a girly giggle. “You bring you does. Pretty Bird you bring fate you does bring fate!” It spoke a mile a minute, making Moltres wonder if it even needed to breathe, but it was certain now that communication was not a problem. “Pretty Bird brings fate you does!”

Fate... that was a laugh! Moltres never had seen itself as a harbinger of fate. Maybe the other birds were more worthy, but Moltres? Why not one of the others, far more worthy. First to pop to the avian’s mind was Zapdos, its yellow, illuminating body vividly was displayed in its subconscious. It’s great, jagged wings, though unwieldy by look, were actually empowered by the magnetic poles to grace its flight with speed, and empower its electrical storms.

Zapdos was as quick as lightning, and so was it’s mind. Though not always one to make perfect decisions, the bird of golden thunder was nothing short of intelligent, and loyal to its homeland of Kanto, and to the Earth itself. With power, and grace, Zapdos would always be an ideal choice, should destiny have need for a legendary intervention.

Then, there was the other bird, Arcticuno, the avian legend of ice. The vision of icy wings, as blue as a pure stream, and a long tail with feathers that sprinkled the world below it in purity, and soft ice crystals. Arcticuno was not as fast, or destructive as either Zapdos or Moltres, but the bird of the cold was a sturdy one, with feathers that let it survive so far from the arctic circle, and let it manipulate the breezes and gales of the stratosphere if ever the need arose. By mind set, Articuno was cool tempered, and calm. When a problem was too hard for Zapdos to comprehend, Arcticuno was (almost) always patient, even if the world were to crumble to a rocky mess, imploding from the inside out. If anything, Arcticuno was probably just as, if not even more worthy than Zapdos of handling a dire situation.

Then, that left Moltres itself. Amongst legends, Moltres was the ingenuity... the one who sparked ideas like wildfire. Yet, unlike the others of his triad, Moltres lacked the will to perform, and the ability to enact upon his thoughts. As well, his ability to think outside the box was a curse, s much as it was a blessing. Whatever ‘blessing’ this was considered, it sure was uncertain to the phoenix. It almost longed to be... human. To be able to live a simpler, and mortal life, and talk amongst other humans about things that never mattered, while at the same time, be able to think many things beyond the comprehension of a Pokemon... even if said Pokemon was a god of sorts.

Humans, after all, were fortunate to have short, yet fulfilling lives... but legendaries were practically eternal Pokemon who existed only to protect and serve the land. It was this blissful, and short existence that the phoenix dreamed of having, so that one day, it could pass on from this unfulfilling life, to a place where even the gods could not even know about.

Indeed, a curse. Moltres was often one to dream... which reminded the beast that it must have been dreaming, because the last thing it remembered, was falling asleep. Even a legendary needed rest and sustenance. Though ageless, they could bleed, and die of injuries if weak.

<What do...> Moltres began with a surprisingly calm sigh. <What is it?>

The weird being seemed void of emotion, as its wide, alien eyes continued to reflect the image of the bird that was perched patiently before it. “Pretty Bird!” It shout in a rather random outburst. “I come to tell Pretty Bird of destiny and how I wants to ravage pretty bird! Ravage Pretty Bird I wants to do. Ravage Pretty Bird long time!” It sounded happy as it spoke, yet it still sat there, its arms and hands completely unmoving as it cheered vigorously. As it giggled, its hands moved, revealing a flat abdomen, lacking of any form of gender discernable features.

Moltres, rolled its eyes. <I hate to ruin your fun,> The bird outright lied, indeed glad for this fact. <Well, I’m, as humans have come to call us, a legendary...> The bird paused, as its eyes narrowed in a sharper, sterner gaze. <That means I don’t have genitals!>

“You so pretty Pretty Bird!” The awkward blue being said again without pausing at proper points in his sentence. “I ravage you long time! Pretty Bird!” It was hardly even listening to Moltres as its blue, fingerless hands clasped themselves together, as it proceeded to giggle again. “Big sea beast far away I ravage you long time!”

“Sea beast gone!” The blue humanoid said in a high pitched voice. “Now pretty Pretty Bird can be ravaged by me! Pretty Bird Pretty Bird!”

<Who are you?> the phoenix asked suspiciously. This humanoid was peculiar. From what Moltres was figuring, it a strange entity with a seemingly insatiable hunger for the bird’s nonexistent private parts. More than ever, being a legendary never felt so reassuring.

The blue creature giggled, but stopped abruptly at the question. “I?” It asked. “I am...” It paused. Dear god, it seemed to be thinking, from Moltres’ perspective. “I’m me...” it replied at last, wioth its hands pointing at itself. “DUH!” it added with overtly loud, yet oddly giddy sarcasm. “I’m me duh!” it repeated, this time forgetting to pause where needed in a run on sentence.

Moltres nodded, the bird’s eyes rolling at ‘Me’ <I see... how informative. Now, what is this about destiny?>

“FATE!” ‘Me’ yelled intrusively, as though it were the only correct word.

Moltres nodded yet again, enthusiasm all but gone. <You are an encyclopedia of knowledge.> The flame avian commented. The mention of encyclopedia made the bird feel almost lonely, and with the feeling of time as of the essence with the ability to think deeply, Moltres needed a hobby, and it came to the bird in the form of writing.

Now, naturally, being without an opposable thumb, the ability to wield the pen, which as everyone knows, is thrice the might of the sword and then some. Instead, Moltres had to use its beak VERY carefully. After all, a single sneeze could burn the current piece of paper or parchment to ashes, though it made for an effective eraser, and finding human or Pokemon to scribe the work was putting the beast’s reputation at risk.

Well, regardless of the details, Moltres has a published book out there today. ‘Mind Set of a Featherbrained Phoenix,’ which happened to make surprisingly good sales... as if Moltres really needed money. No, money could never buy a new existence... no money could truly make the avian philosopher become human. <Tell me about my ‘fate. Does it involve Arcticuno and Zapdos as well?>

‘Me’ shook its head, its eyes blinking for the third time since Moltres had seen it. “Eww! No, they too ugly! They ugly Ugly Birds! I kill them for you, cuz you is Pretty Bird!”

<Amusing...> Moltres said, knowing full well that the blue sky humanoid could certainly not do a damned thing against the might of the other birds, and quite frankly, the bird was starting to take its words with a grain of salt. Yet, Moltres was not so stupid as to disregard the blue creature entirely, and as such, decided to play along... at least until he woke up from this dream.

“Pretty Bird has fate against The Four or Five!” ‘Me’ stated with a giggle. “Heh! Pretty Bird will get hurt, and I will ravage Pretty Bird! Pretty Bird, Pretty Bird ravaged by I, Pretty Bird will be it will be it is does happen!” At this point, the periwinkle one was making almost no sense.

<Four or five...> Moltres stated with a calm thought. <Hmm, is is Rayik? They have the four legendary swords: Masmun, Murasa, Excalb, and Ragnor.> Moltres shook it’s head at that, causing a few embers to get flung through the black nothingness of the eternity of his odd dream.

“The four or five!” the giddy humanoid repeated. “Four or five, they faces you!”

Moltres’ eyes shot open. Faces... that word struck deep within the confines of the bird’s skull. <Could it be... wait, me? Me... against the Oni of Kertonmel?>

“No, I not going. You fighting the Four or Five DUH!” ‘Me’ stated obviously. “The Four or Five Four or Five Four or Five!” the periwinkle one repeated over and over again.

<You must be joking...> Moltres said in a serious tone. <Wait... Lugia’s there!> In the bird’s strange sense of fear at the mere thought of dealing with the Oni, things were starting to make sense in a freakish way. <I must return to the waking world, now!>

“But me wants ravage you!” the bluer oddity stated in a pout. It certainly wasn’t winning over Moltres. There was no way the bird would let anything get their way with its nonexistent genitalia, no matter what. “If you want wake, I must ravage you. Ravage you long time!”

<No!> Moltres stated firmly. <I must awaken now!>

“But I want ravage Pretty Bird Pretty Bird.”

It was amazing how little the blue humanoid had moved the whole time. The only thing that Moltres even noticed moving were the creature’s mouth (which simply wouldn’t STOP moving no matter what,) its eyes, and its unappendaged hands. It was still sitting in its levitated state of odd calm, yet was hyper all the while.

As much as Moltres didn’t wish to believe what it was hearing, it would not let down anyone with its job as a legend. If Lugia needed help because the Oni were acting out of line, then the bird would do its job to protect and serve. <I must go now! I must fight the ‘Four or Five.’>

“Four or Five!” the creature giggled. “You go fly straight upward and eventually you go wakey! I wants to ravage you, I ravage you long time next time I ravage you I does Pretty Bird I ravage!”

The bird of legend didn’t need to hear any more. With an vertical trajectory, the body of the phoenix took on an orange glow, and swiftly, the bird took to the air, in hopes of leaving this emptiness, and getting away from ‘Me.’

As the bird departed, the blue humanoid’s eyes began to shift. The empty black reflectors were still there, but an illumination of bright green spheres took shape in the middle. As they did, they slanted inwards, as the beast grinned almost sinisterly. “Pretty Bird a fool! I ravage Pretty Bird good. Ravage Pretty Bird ravage Pretty Bird.” Its voice sound more sinister this time around.

Dilasc

6th November 2005, 1:27 AM

I decided to treat all my loyal readers and closet readers with a small preview, which in turn benefits me as well for reasons I will not mention foolishly here. Anyway, on with the sneak peak. You will also see where I get the Bleeding, Disintegrating Hand I use for Dust to Deceit's trademark thriller.

New Chapter will come soon enough, but this is just to keep you all on the edges of your seats.

***

It rained in red. A torrent of crimson droplets fell from greying orange sky, as clouds of a dark, sickly red did little to block out the night sky above, meaning that this rain, was anything but natural. The droplets were warm, and sticky, bathing the ground in warm, fresh hemoglobin. Even the stars looked bleak, and a bright, sickly green as well.

The grass was dead, dried up, and crinkly. It was as hard as iron, but frail enough to disintegrate into powder at a simple touch. As all this happened, Phillip Molson gasped in horror. He could hardly believe that this... this Armageddon, was a reality. As he glanced about the dying red soaked earth, a sinister laughter caught his ear, and from what he could see, it looked as though there were five laughing faces, floating in midair.

Those faces, as strange as they were, terrified the boy, though he knew nothing about any of them. At that, one of the faces approached him, a grin upon its frightening face. “The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” it said. It almost sounded monotonous yet whispery, as though it were being chanted.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” another one said as it floated towards him from the sky above. The emptiness of their facial forms were dead and void of any appearance whatsoever. There were no eyes, or mouths, just thin faces shrouded in a mysterious shadow.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

This time, at the loud outburst of the five monotonous, shadowed faces, the ground began to shake, and the sky suddenly darkened. The reason for this darkness was scary in its obviousness. In the sky was a giant sphere of cratered grey and white... and it was drawing closer and closer to the ground.

This, Phil concluded quickly, was the moon, pulling closer and closer every second, the ground beneath him beginning to crack, as though the entire planet were being wracked by seismic doom, and with the moon hurtling to the planet like a giant meteorite, the idea wasn’t too unfathomable.

The gravitational pressure was becoming to much. Phil could not hold his ground any longer as he suddenly felt so heavy, he landed face first in the grass, shattering the delicate dry blades beneath him to a powdery nothingness! His shorts were drenched in red blood, as were his shirt, and face and arms. He realized, soon enough, that he too was beginning to bleed.

As he attempted to reach up, his blood soaked hand trembled violently, as he felt the gravitational pressure of the moon rip away at him. He couldn’t even muster a scream under this pressure, not as though anyone would hear him. Again, as he lay on the dead, bloodied grass, his head managed to lift itself upwards in fear as he saw the five shadowy faces. Their emptiness terrified him more than the Earth’s impending doom.

In an instant, Phil felt himself being ripped from his dream state as he was violently rippeds back to the world of the awake.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

The voices repeated it one more time, as he began to stir. The funny, yet at the same time horrifying thing was, he could have sworn he heard the shrill, faint whisper of the end of the chant even as he was no longer haunted by sleep.

Seijiro Mafuné

6th November 2005, 2:43 AM

This story is... deranged. I like it.

Dilasc

7th November 2005, 5:45 AM

Seiijiro Mafune: Twisted eh? I'll take that alone, as a compliment, even though I don't think it's twisted enough.

I’d like to know if any of my readers would like to be informed when I write a new chapter by me personally. If so, leave a review asking so, or send me a Private Message asking if you’d prefer to remain a Closet Reader. I’ll add this part to the beginning to let those who enter know right off the bat, but still, if you want to be on the notification list, let me know, and I will personally PM my wonderful fans when a new chapter is unleashed to the public.

Uh, don't forget to review either. I could always use the reviews. Just letting you all know, all you few readers, you!

Dilasc

8th November 2005, 1:13 AM

I decided that I would post a little preview of Chapter 12, since it might be a long one at the rate I'm going. So here it is.

From the TV, Phil heard a loud, enraged voice. ‘Milk Splash!’ yelled an overly muscular man that was way too white of skin. Literally, his skin was the color of milk.

Gina however, did not like his lack of attention at all. A reasonable cause to be angry, of course. In a swift motion, she grabbed the remote from Phil’s hand, and clicked the off button, just as what appeared to be a bottle of chocolate syrup was about to hit the milky man on the TV screen. “Do you mind?”

“I sure do!” Phil said with disdain. “This is the part where Dr. Choctopus infuses the Insoggable Milk with Syrupy radiation, which transforms him!”

“I don’t care!” Gina shouted, “Could you just pay attention? This is important” Her hand moved away as Phil tried to snatch at the remote.

Kiyohime

8th November 2005, 3:29 AM

Yes, deranged is the perfect word to explain this. Brilliant and insanely original also make good adjectives for this tale. And to answer whoever asked, 'Kvetching' is Yiddish for complaining, whining, grumblnig, etc. As in, "Stop kvetching and eat your gefilte fish!"

Wherever do I begin?

Jimmy. Ah, yes. Jimmy. Quite possibly one of my favorite characters, out of all of the Pokemon fanfiction I've ever read...AND that's a lot. I love his outbursts, such as "Pu' me on the spit!" and "Fly me to the moon in a batter--!" His outbursts always make for an enjoyable read, and it isn't often someone pulls off insanity as alarming as this without being overdone, but I beleive you've done a good job with keeping his character in rein.

In the beginning, your description seemed forced in several places, but it seems to improve as the story progresses. I must say, you've got a shrewd and unique way of describing the character's feelnigs, and I have to admit you surprised me pleasantly when you mentioned Phil's sister being a lesbian. Rarely is that sort of topic mentioned in Pokemon fanfiction, and I appreciate that, however small it is. XD

As for the Orbital Occult...I'm most impressed in that aspect. You've got a near-encyclopedic knowledge of astronomy,and this particular cult seems to be far fresher and more refined than those such as Rocket, Magma, and Aqua, because this particualr cult is rooted in science, which is a form of truth. Rocket belives in money, Magma believes in the enviromental power of the earth and Graadon, and Aqua does the same with the ocean and Kaiorga. So astronomy is something we barely see in Pokemon stories, save for Deoxys.

I will repeat it again, this is one of the most brilliantly and creepily deranged stories I've ever read, and it's one of those stories that peopel will either hate or love, which means you've done a good job to invoke emotiosn from the extreme. If you get a neutral response, you screwed up. XD

I'm a little surprised this hasn't garnered more replies. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you indicated that you had posted this earlier, correct? Was it popular? If it was, I can't really think of why this story has gotten such few replies. Perhaps you need to advertise more, such as a banner or berating your former readers over PM. XD

Dilasc

8th November 2005, 4:07 AM

Scrap: I am humbled and honored by your review. I honestly don't know why I have such a small reader base... maybe it's because my story is so different, or maybe I just have bad luck. I have no idea. Maybe its the rather mature (by which I mean proper, and not saucy) style that I write with and the big words, but really, I don't have a clue.

As for back a year ago when I posted it here, it was of fairly good popularity. People loved the description most of all, but some liked the clever chapter titles, and 1337 TV, which is where I attempt to write some semi-stylish parodizing humor.

It's important to note that any interludes you see now were not in the original Dust. That means that they were all written very recently. As such, the Occult, the Legendary Demons, Lugia, and Moltres are all rather new. The Rattata chapter was in my head even way back when, but I lost touch at... well, this very chapter, truth be known.

A sneak peak of what the Kertonmel League is like:

Kertonmel is huge! You're not going to find your usual eight gyms with type battles. You're going to find gyms with strange themes, from simple sleep focus, to a Muay Thrai Gym (which is basically Muay Thai with a slightly different name, the fighting style of the deadly limbs) that actually isn't about fighting type Pokemon.

That's the final extent of this spoiler of what's to come. You all need to keep reading if you want more.

Ledian_X

8th November 2005, 9:39 PM

Dilasec, don't worry about having a small reader base. Look at my story. Now that's a small reader base! I can think of like seven people on this board who read it. I just finished the first chapter of your story and all I can say can be summed up in three words.

Oh. My. God.

Nice work on the characterization, the pacing, the emotions all seem very real and the description makes you feel like you're there. I have to say, nice work so far. I'm gonna read more of Dust to Deciet but right now I just wanted tto say this.

Characters are great and deep as is the plot. More later as I read.

Also, judging from pother peoples' comments, it all seems well founded. Keep up the good work. I know you did an awesome review of my story. I dunno how much you read but I figure turnabout is fair play.

Give it 10/10. Now let's see how the story continues.

LX

Dilasc

9th November 2005, 10:42 PM

LX: Very true. I suppose I shouldn't be crying about spilt milk when I could cry over, oh say, a spilt oil factory... Or something like that. Regardless, I'm glad you are enjoying it. I'm sure you too will get more readers in due time. It's just that the Non-Poke section is less frequented around here.

Well, here is... Chapter Twelve at long last! You too can be on the watch list, so stop waiting and get the heck on already! WARNING! If you see V where you know a W should be, then just remember that someone is using a European accent of sorts, you’ve been ‘varned’, ya! Anyvay... er, ahem! I mean ANYWAY, on with the show!

Dust to Deceit

With all the pain and sadness, I’m surprised at my ability to keep myself calm and optimistic. I must honestly have problems. There has to be something wrong with me. Am I wrong to be happy while many people suffer?
-Gina Meshing

Chapter 12: In Which We Begin... Again!

Phil Molson snarled yet again. His ears must have been working incorrectly, there was no other possible explanation for why Gina Meshing would even dream of inviting the murderous Jimmy to tag along. “We’re not taking him with us.” the boy stated firmly, as he scraped a piece of sticky food from his black, short sleeved shirt.

Gina shrugged. She would have to let him know the truth eventually, and tell Phillip how she felt about him, and just being around him in general. She would tell him about this feeling welling up inside her when she was near him and the emotions they instilled within her. She wouldn’t say them just yet though. “Don’t worry. ‘We’ aren’t.” She assured him with emphasis on we. “I am.”

Gina grinned. “No, no I’m not...” she smiled. Yes, now she would tell him. At long last, she would let him know. “You’re on your own, Phil!”

Phil needed a few seconds to absorb this. How could this girl prefer Jimmy to him? How could she want to be with a man who almost killed her, and accept his trust only a day later. As Phil sat on the couch by the TV, he had one simple, yet obvious question to ask. “Why? Why him over me?” After all, as mentioned before, Phil risked his life to save her. Was this truly a worthy way of being repaid for his good deed?

“Because...” Gina began with a sigh, as she brushed aside a small strand of her cascading green hair. “Well, quite simply, you’re a temperamental person with low self-esteem!”

Phillip glanced from left to right. “What the hell are you saying?” He was, for the most part, ignoring her words, and their potential idiocy.

Gina spoke up again. “You’re like a brainwashed soldier, Phillip.”

He looked at her as though she had grown a long, hairy beard as pink as cotton candy, and thrice as dissolvent. “Excuse me?” he asked, not knowing what on this planet, or the next (Venus more likely, since it was bigger and closer,) that Gina was talking about, or how he was a soldier. Phil was no warrior, and definitely didn’t have the will to fight random strangers in faraway lands. He was also a bit scared of death, like most sane and living beings. “Just because I have declared war and Jihad on murder man doesn’t mean I’m Sargent Hullabaloo or whatever.”

Gina shook her head. “Noldin Spacro was a good man, who had just left college when he was drafted to the military.” The girl stated, confusing Phil with facts of how the heck this had anything to do with his revenge. “When he went to battle after much military training, he became obsessed with killing and bloodlust.” She explained, sighing and shaking slightly as she spoke. “He was eager to kill, and cared about the rush of power more than anything... even the risk of death.”

Phil, snorted in disgust and disbelief, “That has nothing to do with this!” he snapped, turning his head away from the girl. “Now leave me alone! The Unsoggable Milk should be on tonight if I’m not mistaken.”

With that, he swiftly lunged for the channel changer, and aimed it for the TV. With a few clicks of the numbers on the changer, he had reached his destination. From the TV, Phil heard a loud, enraged voice. ‘Milk Splash!’ yelled a man that was way too white of skin. Literally, he was the color of milk.

Gina however, did not like his lack of attention at all. A reasonable cause to be angry, of course. In a swift motion, she grabbed the remote from Phil’s hand, and clicked the off button, just as what appeared to be a bottle of chocolate syrup was about to hit the milky man on the TV screen. “Do you mind?”

“I sure do!” Phil said with disdain. “This is the part where Dr. Choctopus infuses the Milk with Syrupy radiation!”

“I don’t care!” Gina shouted, “Could you just pay attention?” Her hand moved away as Phil tried to snatch at the remote. His brown eyes nearly went red with rage at this, as he grit his teeth. How dare she deny him access to the super hero thriller gone movie of the year! “As I was saying!” she started, loudly to ensure she had the boy’s attention. “Soon, Noldin came to realize he had shot a little boy by mistake. The kid’s crying snapped him back to the harshness of reality, and he vowed never to kill again.”

“But he did, didn’t he?” came a new voice from the doorway. With rings in his face, and a voice all too familiar, albeit a bit timid this time around, here was Jimmy... the murderous Jimmy. “That’s the problem with killing. It doesn’t matter if you murder under the privilege of war or as a criminal, you are still a murderer.” He paused at this, his voice so scared and timid, as though he was going to break into a million bloody pieces at a simple tap. “The worst part is, you’re forever haunted by those you kill.”

Phil was tense, but remained as calm as he could for now. He didn’t want the police to be back so soon, and didn’t want to be kicked out of the Pokemon Center. He didn’t want to be kicked out, and forced to live on the streets of a city that maybe never even slept. Instead, he resorted to simply gripping the edge of the couch in order to help relieve his stress. “Like you know anything about being guilty!” Phil spat, his body restraining itself in order to resist lashing out and resist giving in to his short temper. He stood up, and stamped the ground with his foot.

“Phil!” yelled Gina.

“I need to make a phone call!” he stated, his voice determined, and on the verge of screaming bloody murderer. “I also need to get away from both of you!”

At that, he yelled. He yelled as loud as a ferocious lion, attempting to drive the anger out of his system faster than it could come back to him. It was to no avail. The only way would to be far, far away from Jimmy. As he stamped off, roaring like a feral wolf every few paces, Jimmy decided to sit down. He needed to talk to Gina.

His first question, was perhaps the most obvious question that the lady would have ever thought of. “Why? Tell me please!” he was practically begging. “Why me?”

Gina sighed at this. Jimmy was no bad guy. She could tell that this man was seriously scarred for life. Suffice to say, Jimmy was a murderer... there was no doubt about that. He had almost killed her too, but the key word there is almost. She was after all, still alive, and truly, that’s all that really mattered to her. “You’re a good person, Jimmy.” she said simply, after taking a second to carefully consider those words.

He shook his pierced face vigorously in disagreement. “No...” he replied in a solemn tone. “Gina! I killed people and Pokemon alike! For God’s sake, throw me in jail already!” He felt so pitiful, and unselfish in his moment of weakness. The memories of the dead were still fresh on his memory, and it was causing him to quiver almost uncontrollably.

The green haired girl smiled weakly. “No!” she declared. “You are worthy of redemption, and may be able to rise above this!”

Jimmy blinked a few times before he could muster a response. “Do... do you really... do you honestly think so?” He wasn’t sure he trusted her just yet. After all, Phillip may have been right this whole time. “What reason do you have to waste time on me?”

Gina sighed, taking the broken man’s hand in her own. It trembled so rapidly and so fearfully in her grasp that it almost made her voice sound a bit distorted, as though by vibration. “Well, I know what it’s like to have an abusive parent.”

This caught Jimmy’s attention. “You...” he blinked, almost speechless with great sorrow and regret. “You do?”

Gina nodded. “My father is an alcoholic.” she stated firmly, “He is abusive when drunk, which he often is. I know what it’s like to have bad a parent.” She said it brief. She really didn’t want to go too in-depth about it. Not that there was ever any physical abuse upon her. Far from it, it was the girl’s mother who suffered, the abusiveness. “It’s even worse when you watch your mother be on the receiving end.” she paused with a deep, depressed exhalation. “That is why I am going on this Pokemon journey. My mother suggested for my own safety that I get away.” After a few seconds of pause, she added swiftly, “I do, of course, know about Pokemon too, so that’s no big deal.”

The ex-psycho nodded. “I see.” he replied, with extreme caution. Everything had him on edge at the moment, from the simple sound of the ticking clock on the wall, which indicated that the time was now Seven at night, to the angry foot stamping of Phillip Molson. Jimmy remained silent for a few seconds, before his shame and misery continued. “So, when should I apologize to Phil, if ever?”

Gina shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. Sara always said he was a bit weird, but he seems to have many mood swings... all of them angry. I’d just stay as far away from him as possible...” she paused, considering things for a moment before swiftly adding more. “It’s not like he really has the capability of hurting you, but still...”

Jimmy nodded again. He was afraid to disagree with anything she said. It was as though she was a dictator who had absolute rule, and absolute say of what is and what goes. “I understand.” His subservience was as well hidden as he could muster. “Gina, do you hate me?” He asked, trying to sound as brave as he possibly could.

The girl did not know how to reply to this. She wasn’t expecting such a blunt question right yet. After all... “Jimmy, I hardly even know you,” she sighed, his hand unclasping with hers in order to rest his drooping head. “Lighten up a bit. You have your life, and your freedom.”

Jimmy’s eyes sternly focused upon the girl at that. “I may be alive, but because of me, you can find some gone and broken families are the result.” He paused, his misery seemed to know no bounds. “As for freedom...” he began, wondering how he should word this carefully. “No, you wouldn’t understand unless you lived the with the heavy guilt, weighing on your shoulders, and caving in on your mind! If only it were physical pain, it would be much more tolerable.”

While Gina chatted with the ring faced man, Phillip sighed as he approached the camera phones, thankfully a few rooms away. As the name implied, it was a phone with access to a camera, which just so happened to be on what looked like a computer screen. In there, the skinny red headed Viking was busy making a call.

“It was a vaste of my time, ya! Completely and utterly useless!” the accented man yelled into the phone, as a man bald with dark skin and a thick green beard nodded at the other end. As He heard Phil enter, he swiftly gasped. “I had better go. See ya later!”

Phil glanced at the foreigner with confusion. He really didn’t care if this guy was Santa in disguise, and into a freaky choice of brick red hair dye. With an audible, and somewhat accidental grunt, Phil took a seat at the phone. He didn’t really care that the room had light blue walls, or that it was rather confined with only three phones. One had to wonder though about a big city like this. Then again, this place was relatively empty as it stood, so why should Phil have even cared one way or another? Besides, there were more important questions on his mind than how many idiots it would take to screw up a pay phone, even though the phones, just the same as the healing services, were absolutely free at a Pokemon Center.

“Uh, hallo there!” said the Viking man in a nervous, and subdued tone.

Phil mumbled for a second, but decided not to be a total jerk to everyone, and replied. “Yea, hi!” he replied, only a meager shred of enthusiasm in his voice. “You are... uh, Derrick, right?” he asked, not giving a rattata’s rear-end either way.

“Verick.” the Norseman corrected. “You are Phil, ya?”

“Ya.” Phil replied in almost a mocking tone. At that, he grabbed for the phone, and dialed the number he knew to call. On the other end, he was greeted by the black hair and mustache of none other than Mr. Brenetmos.

“Hello.” Mr. Brenetmos began, almost cheerily, before looking at the screen to see Phillip. “Ah...” he stated, pausing in hesitation. “So is it...”

“It’s fine!” Phil snapped. “My Totodile is just fine. It turns out...” he sighed deeply and with great regret. “It turns out that, well, I was wrong.... as always!” he added to swifly. “Sorry if I doubted you...”

The scientist shrugged his shoulders with indifferent. “Eh, no big deal, I suppose if everything is alright.” The man chuckled at that. “Have you caught any more Pokemon?”

“Yea!” He nodded. “I caught a spider. I don’t know what it’s called though.”

Brenetmos stared blankly at Phil, as though his face suddenly was melting off in a spiral motion that defied the laws of gravity. “It’s probably either a Spinarak, or a Wideows, but why don’t you check your Pokedex?”

This caught Phil by surprise. “Poke...” he glared at the screen, and saw Mr. Brenetmos holding a small computerized object in his hand. “I believe you forgot this.” he stated, “I seriously believed you would too, ironically enough.”

“Great!” Phil sighed. “Looks like I need to run back home from Feltinburg. Great!”

Mr. Brenetmos sighed. “No, that won’t be necessary.” the mustachioed man stated. “I’ll simply send it over in a Pokeball.”

“Great!” Phil stated as his eyes shifted from left to right. “Uh, can I ask a question about raising Pokemon?”

The professor sighed. “I don’t see why not.” As he spoke, he pushed a few buttons, as he held a Pokeball in his right hand. “You should send the ball back to me afterwards, or it may accidentally count towards your Pokemon total.” He sighed. “Now, what was your question?”

Phil sighed as he began. “How do I get Pokemon to attack?” he asked quite bluntly. Perhaps, at that, a bit too bluntly.

“You tell it to attack.” The scientific man replied. “You tell it which attack you want it to use.” The professor paused for a second before coming up with an end-all answer. “The Pokedex should be able to help you.”

“Good!” replied the Molson boy. “Maybe now they’ll be better slaves!” He chuckled, before realizing what he had just said. “Oh crap!” he blurted. “I did NOT say that out loud.” he said in denial! “I definitely did NOT say that out loud!”

“Oh why do I even bother?” sighed Brenetmos. “Phillip. Your Pokemon are supposed to be your friends, not your servants.”

“I know!” Mr. Brenetmos snapped. “You’re a miserable person who needs to get a life! Fortunately for you, Pokemon are not too difficult to befriend. You simply need to show some love and trust. Also, don’t abuse your Pokemon verbally or physically, if you know what’s good for you or your Pokemon.” Brenetmos at that ‘hmphed’, and continued to speak, his tone almost snobbish, as if he knew something. “You probably have already threatened their lives a few times. How did you catch a Spinarak when you didn’t even know how to fight properly?”

“I kicked it into a tree when it bit my hand.” Phil replied, and what scared Brenetmos was how serious Phil sounded. “After that, I remembered that I could throw a Pokeball at it.”

“I’m frightened by your honesty, Phillip, I really am!” Mr. Brenetmos sighed. “You should be receiving your Pokedex any second now.” As he said that, sure enough, no longer than a second later, a strange flash of white light startled the Molson boy, and when it dissipated, there was a Pokeball in its white and red goodness.

Phil snatched it from the small cup holder shaped holding unit it sat in, and swiftly opened the ball. From within, the same mechanical encyclopedia that he had just seen on the screen was now in Phil’s hands. “Thanks!”

All this time, the red haired Viking had been watching, and dare it be said, he was eavesdropping on Phil’s conversation. “You are a Pokemon trainer?” he asked, a hint nervousness evident in his quiet tone.

Phil nodded, albeit, his tone afterwards was not friendly. “Yes I am, and I’ll thank you to not to butt in on my conversations.”

“You vere yelling rather loudly.” the accented teen noted. “I will let you complete your call however uninterrupted if that is what you vish.”

With a pompous ‘hmph’, Phil turned to look back at the phone screen. “Look, I may not want to do this long and probably boring journey, but I think I kind of need to.” Phil sighed. “For Sara...” he trailed, as he grit his teeth very tightly. “Who’s murderer is currently getting all buddy-buddy on Gina! I will rip that ******* to pieces!”

“Gina’s there?” Brenetmos asked curiously. “Mind if I ask that you put her on?”

“I suppose so... but maybe you should invite my father over, just in case the murderer walks in too.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back?” It was Gina, whose tone depicted neither sadness or joy, and she was standing at the doorway. Suffice to say, the small blue walled room didn’t have a door, but it was still a doorway, since a door would fit in the spot right nicely.

Regardless of interior decoration, Phil was startled ever slightly at her voice. “How did you do that?”

“Phillip, your voice is loud and obnoxious! You would wake a dead man even if he was deaf and eight thousand miles away!”

“That was mean.” Phil stated in a neutral tone. “I’m not that loud.”

“No, she’s right.” This time, it was Jimmy. The ring faced murderer had made himself known. “We could hear you quite clearly from the other room.”

“Shut up murderer!” Phil snapped harshly at Jimmy, snarling at the end for good measure. He looked back at Brenetmos on the screen. “See the ugly guy who just walked in?” Phil asked, pointing at none other than the ex-psycho.

Brenetmos said nothing. His jaw dropped at this, and he almost looked as though he’d cry a mighty river. It took a few seconds, but he finally spoke. “He... he killed...” He was trying to ask a question, but he seemed to be choking on his own words.

“Yes. This creep, Jimmy, killed Sara, and attempted to kill Gina as well. Yet she travels with him as though he were her best friend.” Phillip explained, spiteful undertones rolled off of every decibel that emanated from his voice box as they formed a poisonous sense of pure, unadulterated hatred. “Do you understand now, Mr. Brenetmos? Do you understand the anger that boils in the darkest pit of my heart and stomach. Can you feel the hatred sweat off your head, only to bathe the rest of your body in it as it drips to the floor?”

Gina rolled her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen. You’re never going to let this go!”

“Never!” Phil yelled in response. “I will haunt you till the day you die, Jimmy! When the time comes, I will kill you!”

“Is that so, son?” said a loud, new voice from the other side of the phone. “I thought I told you that killing isn’t the answer.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “Dad!” he exclaimed in shock, as he pointed at Jimmy. “This jerk, here... he killed Sara.”

Jimmy’s head, this whole time, was downtrodden and filled with regret. He may have been on the verge of tears as well. The fact remained, that he couldn’t bring himself to look eye-to-eye the father of an innocent he had killed. The shame and the guilt were far too much. “Um, h... hi.” he said, quivering in shame.

Phil father eyed the man carefully. “Is he the real one?” Richard Molson was almost shocked to be looking into the face of a murderer, albeit through a strange computer screen, but nonetheless, he was looking at the murderer of his daughter.

“May I kill him dad?” Phil asked, as though his father was a higher authority than the law.

“Of course you could.” replied his father, his sarcasm fell on Phil’s deaf ears though, so he quickly decided to add a few more words. “If you don’t want me to call you son any more. I’ve been listening in on the conversation almost this whole time.”

“Yes, you are quite abusive, son. I honestly had no idea, and I do not like it.” His father stated sternly.

“Why are you even here, dad?” Phil asked in confusion. “After all, you just want to disown me anyway, right?” This was starting to feel unnerving for the Molson boy, having to pour his soul to everyone in the phone room. It suddenly felt very closed in.

“No son.” The boy’s father replied with a saddened exhalation. “I am doing all this because I love you.”

Those words rang in Gina’s ears, and brought a tear to her eye. Damn Phil for being so spoiled as to have two loving parents. Damn him for being a spoiled brat who had parents who were there for him. Damn Phil for having the audacity to even think that he had such a miserable life. The green haired girl swiftly exited through the doorless doorway, a single tear wetting the floor as she did.

Phillip, of course, noticed her leave, but not her crying, “Eh, that girl’s smart enough.” Phil grinned. “Do you mind?” He said to Verick, “This is a private conversation.” To Jimmy, he simply hissed like an angry cat or snake.

“I think the murderer should stay.” stated Richard. “I would like to talk to him too.”

“Ya!” Verick nodded. “I vill leave ya all privacy.” At that, Verick was gone. Phil and the now broken Jimmy were all that remained.

And that concludes todays installment of your Kertonmel update, though I have to wonder sometimes why I do so at all.

nintyweb

10th November 2005, 10:44 PM

And that concludes todays installment of your Kertonmel update, though I have to wonder sometimes why I do so at all.You do it to entertain me of course. :D And, I must say, I am most entertained. You did a pretty fine job of winding it down from the previous section in the last chapter, and that's forgetting the entertaining interludes. I especially liked the Ratatta one, quite possibly because of its simplicity in a way, but mainly because I like Ratattas. Especially ones with Flame Wheel... ;) And the "glass doughnut" description was quite... hmm, can't quite find the word. Suffice to say, I liked it.

“I sure do!” Phil said with disdain. “This is the part where Dr. Choctopus infuses the Milk with Syrupy radiation!”Heh, I liked this as well. It sounds really cool... if only it were actually a film...

Hmm, and I wonder if Verrick and Phil will team-up. Makes sense to me.

So, yeah, anyway, a resounding "nice job, dude!" from me.

I’d like to know if any of my readers would like to be informed when I write a new chapter by me personally.Yeah, that'd be great, please.

Nintyweb: Ah, you are the mysterious two-star man, eh? Meh, well, no biggie!Eh? Not true, not true! Lookie at the top. Now the average goes up to a 4.4 with my 5, see? I am in fact the (not-so) mysterious 5-star man.

Dilasc

11th November 2005, 6:17 PM

Nintyweb: Okey dokey! YOu are the first member on the reviewers list! Be proud of yourself!

Yes, Phil is to travel with Verick. That was to be my plan, even way back. Their partnership is going to be an odd one to say the least, after all, 'zomg! tehre's no gurlz 1n teh prty!!1111ONE!!111twelve11.' TO those that do I say, maybe yo should stop think about romance all the time. Heck, even Gina's party isn't going to be romantic, considering how much older Jimmy is... b I guess you readers could go through life thinking that anythin is possible (but not very probable.)

In all seriousness though

Dilasc

12th November 2005, 9:47 PM

Well, I can't believe I forgot to give the basic statistics of the 4 legendary swords of the region of Rayik, which Moltres mentioned in it's dream with the creepy 'Me'.

Anyway, if you don't get the naming of the swords, then you don't play enough fantasy based video games that feature swords. By name, they are Masamune, Murasama, Excalibur, and Ragnarok. Also note that these swordy legends have only six letters to their name. Yea, onwards!

Ragnor
Type: Steel/Ghost
Evolutions: Three blind mice... see how they run... see how they run!
Ability: Pure Power

Well, that’s all for this update. Just remember that you ain’t gonna see these four swords until Rayik... if ever I get that far/decide to have someone take on the Rayik league. Until then, gaze at these swords, and dream of their total pwnage powers. Go on, dream about it!

Dilasc

14th November 2005, 1:51 AM

Okay now. After this chapter, we’re going to start jumping a bit as the story goes between the two parties of Phil and Gina. Yes, that’s going to happen, though the story will mostly focus on Phil’s. Yes, it would be like a fudge sundae christened by angels, Buddha, and Elvis if I could keep up with them without breaking a sweat, but seriously now... I’m only human, aren’t I? I can only be so perfect. Regardless, I will do my best. Anyway, beware of more TV shows being parodied to fit the Pokemon world! All I really need now is for Chef Jimmy to start singing about lovemaking in a manner similar to Isaac Hayes, and I’ll have truly been a sellout.

Anyway, I was just thinking about why I’m so unread... I have no answer. All I ask is for more of you folks to read. Heck, tell your friends, tell your friends to tell their friends! Help make Dust to Deceit a success! Anyway, enough of my pitiful rambling of how I somehow fall behind authors worse than me, as well as those of equal calibur, here’s more story!

Dust to Deceit

If mankind were meant to remain on earth forever, then the gods, should they truly exist, should never have given us such expansive minds! We would never have discovered the truth to our past and the gateway to the future! THAT, is the objective we seek! The future!
- Arthur Landon, Leader of the Orbital Occult

Chapter 13: A Series of Misfortunate Suspense

“I understand.” replied Richard Molson with a curt nod. He had just stomached the fortunately left undetailed story of Jimmy’s sad childhood, his abusive mother, and the strange urge for security through power and a lack of fear which brought about his insanity. “You suffer greatly, Jimmy, and feel you do not deserve to a second chance at life.”

“He didn’t even deserve a first chance, dad!” Phil snarled. “By the way, tell Mr. B to stop sniveling and crying. It’s not very becoming of an idiot like him!”

The scary thing was, that in spite of Phil’s spite, what he was saying was rather true. Mr. Brenetmos was almost in tears, showing a strange sensitive side that pretty much made Phil think even lower of he scientist who betrayed him, with the totodile he had been given. Now, the blue croc was far from a murderer and was perhaps the only trustworthy companion that the Molson boy even had. Still, it was the principal of the matter that brought out the worst in Phillip when it came to the subject, but then again, everything seemed to bring out the worst in him at this point in time.

“Phil. Have you listened to his tone, and his words?” the boy’s father asked. “He has no parents of his own. He sounds as though he his going to keel over in shame and never get back up.”

“That can be arranged!” the angered teen shouted with a grin. Yes, he would have loved nothing more than to arrange it, and follow through.

With a sigh, Phil’s father continued. “If he’s a Jimmy, and the appearance and effeminate voice cannot lie, then why hasn’t he even said ‘WHEE!’ yet?” His father asked, his impression of the trademark Jimmy tone was frighteningly accurate, much to Phil’s chagrin.

“Are you insane?” He asked at the top of his lungs as he eyed the broken Jimmy. “I think it’s an improvement! The lack of a laughter that sounds like a potheads, and that infernal ‘WHEE!’ of his!” He paused for a second to catch his breath. “Why I’d love nothing more than to never meet another Jimmy as long as I live! If I did, I’d have to go on... on a ‘Jimicide.’ Let’s call it that, shall we?”

“You know son...” Jimmy’s father said with a sigh. “I give up. I just... well, I frankly think there isn’t any hope for you. After all these years of being such a loner, and a hateful individual, I have to ask myself where I went wrong as a father.”

“You know Phillip.” said Mr. Brenetmos, who had swallowed his pride, and was done trying to cry. “That line about killing is getting really old, and really fast at that. Do you think you could at least come up with some more original lines?”

This sounded like a question that was straight out of left field, or at the very least, your other left! “Uh, what’s wrong with you?” he asked Mr. Brenetmos. “You think this is some kind of performance?” he asked snidely. “Well, do you think this is all just an act?”

“Yes I do.” he replied humbly. “You are, after all, an actor wannabe, and I’ll be quite frank that your acting skills, well, suck big time balls!” He stated it quite firmly with much assertion. He was as serious as could be, and the scary thing was that Phil could tell that he meant it. The scary thing was, that Mr. B was absolutely correct about this being a performance of sorts.

“Fine!” Phil snapped angrily. “Think what you wish of my talents.” he said neutrally. “I’ll have more than enough loyal fans when I get to the top, you’ll see! Once people realize how good I am, they will flock to me! If only can garner their attention.” He stated. He sounded oddly calm, as though he had completely shifted out of an angry shell that had consumed his soul, and then spit it out with an evil pudding to cover it up. As he realized this, he knew his guise was broken. “Ah, but that’s for another day. I will do all I can to get myself a fan base when I’m big and worth being mentioned! Until then though, I will despise all actors who are more renown than I am.”

“Are you through?” Brenetmos asked, a bit bored by Phil’s speech (which, in his opinion, was performed poorly.) “I think it’s about time to end this call. All these minutes are not good for my phone bill.”

“Wait!” shouted Jimmy. “Mr. Molson...” he began, to which the elder Molson nodded his head quickly. “I just wanted to say... thank you. I am in your debt though for what I did.”

“No problem Jimmy.” the man said calmly. “I can tell you meant what you said. You’ve had a rough life, and you deserve a chance. It may sound cliche of me to say it, but you’re a good kid who fell on some very hard times.” He smiled at the end, and waved at the phone. “See ya later, Jimmy, you too son!”

At that, the screen went blank, and only Jimmy and the has been actor Phil remained. “Fine!” Phil shouted at last, as the pressure of the silence had nearly made him insane. “I don’t want to kill you yet. I still hate you though. Never forget that.”

“I deserve it!” Jimmy replied in a calm nod. “You have every right to never, ever forgive me. What I did...”

“Save the speech!” Phil interrupted rudely. “I just have to say one thing.” He said it slowly, and took a second for dramatic pause in between. “If you ever hurt Gina, I will leave you wishing for death!”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “I am a Jimmy!” he stated sternly. “We honor our promises as best we can. I promised Ms. Meshing I would defend her with my life, and she deserves it! Just don’t tell her that I’m gonna try earning badges as well, would you?” He sounded serious when he said this.

“Ok...” Phil nodded, still holding his grudge against his sister’s killer. Still, a simple question lingered in his mind. “Badges?” he asked curiously.

“You don’t know?” the ex-psycho asked, almost surprised. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised with your lack of battling skills.”

Phil grunted at that. “You do know that my kindness only goes so far, right?” He almost figured he actually had any kindness to speak about. Not that he didn’t, but it took a lot of searching and patience for one to truly know the nice Phillip.

“Well, your sister, may she rest in peace,” the Jimmy began, “was probably going to take the Kertonmel league challenge.” Jimmy paused there, as he realized that Phil’s stare was quizzical. “That means she would go around Kertonmel and earn badges. These are gotten from the many gym leaders located at towns and cities throughout the country.”

“How many of these gyms are there?” Phil asked. He was curious. Even if he had to get his info from the lowest life form in the universe, he would get answers. Answers he would need to conquer, and fulfill his sister’s dream and whatever legacy she sought to attain. “You must tell me!” he snapped, grabbing the ring faced man by the collar of his shirt.

“Calm down.” Jimmy said in a calm manner as Phil released Jim’s shirt collar from such a firm grasp. “There are over twenty gyms in Kertonmel, if I’m not mistaken. In order to make it to the Kertonmel Pokemon League, you need sixteen badges.”

Phil nodded, as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So how does a madman like you know all of this anyway?” Phil sighed as he asked this. He was beginning to feel very torn between his own emotions. How could a murderous jerk like Jimmy be so easy to talk to, yet so difficult for Phil to muster the strength to strangle him? The preposterousness of the idea did not settle well with him. “No, wait!” Phil interrupted, before the ex-madman could explain. “Just don’t tell me, I think it’ll be better off if I don’t know.” His voice sounded harsh, as though his moods were a pendulum, swinging to and from anger. It certainly was the pits, that was assured. “By the way...” he added, grinning slightly. “If our paths should cross after tomorrow, I might just try and kill you again.” Jimmy eyed him suspiciously, as though he had a snake biting into his crotch. “This isn’t a joke, *******! See ya!”

At that, Phil stomped off, headed back to the TV, in hopes that maybe he could catch more of the Unsoggable Milk, especially if it were the part where he had to team up with the Green Lanturn. This left Jimmy all alone. It was something the ring faced man was used to at this point in his life. Without any love from his own mother, and no father to look up to, all he ever had was his older brother. Now he would be traveling with Gina, and thus, would be feeling a whole new experience of strange new feelings. Love, and friendship... both were not very well known, but he did know that appeasement would no doubt make Gina more willing to be his friend, and he really felt he could use some friends at this point in his sad life.

With the depressing thought in his mind, he decided he would go for a walk. He needed something to relieve the stress, and the depression from his mind. He figured that his best source of advice would be none other than his older half-brother. Yet the sense of calm that now pervaded over the Pokemon Center, the chaos of the earlier times had come and gone. Now, all that was left to do was to wait for tomorrow, where he’d get the chance to go out into the world with his sanity still intact.

As Jimmy sighed in a mix of both relief and sadness, Gina sat in the Pokemon Center’s bedrooms, depressed on the bed she’d use for the night. Not that she was concerned about sharing with a few males. After all, it wasn’t like a Pokemon trainer was a clean job. One who traveled as lightly as trainer had to probably did not carry spare clothes, nor did the long journey leave much time for shower breaks. Gina didn’t mind the fact that she’d have to smell like a swinub all that much. She’d have gladly shaved her head and sawed off her own nose to escape the misery of home.

The green haired girl was depressed, and angry at Phillip. She hated him and his whining. He was lucky to have a mother and a father who both loved him dearly, and to have had a sister as well. How dare he think he had the worst luck in the world when there were people who suffered worse in other countries that barely had enough to feed themselves. The mere thought of it made Gina hate him even more, as well as herself. She hated herself for a long time. She was probably deserving of lots of the pain and sadness she received at home. It should have been her instead of her mother... it was her fault for running away on this journey.

Time, strangely enough, seemed to hasten as people brooded over their personal problems, and before long, nighttime had arrived at last, and filling the bedroom in four of the ten available beds were the Psycho Jimmy, who sadly still snored in his sleep, and now seemed to be quivering and crying in his sleep, as well as Gina and Verick, who both seemed to sleep more soundly. Phillip however, was restless. His dreams were haunted by a strange vision. Five strange masks kept disturbing him in his sleep, and a loud chanting ensued.

The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell! Blood and Chaos, Flames as well!

It had scared him. He had been on the verge of death at gunpoint not even a day ago, yet now, Phil was terrified. He was too afraid to even think of going back to sleep... it was certainly going to be a long night without the time passing enjoyment of sleep, or people to listen to his bitc*hing. It was almost unfair, as though he felt he hadn’t suffered enough that day. With a quiet stride, the loud whiner tiptoed out of the room as though he were a stealth ninja, and made his way back to the TV. The only question was... what would be on at this time of night? There was of course 1337 TV’s fabled ‘Teeh M@n, and teh R0XX0rs 0f teh Un1v3r$3!’ Yes, Teeh M@n was indeed a fun show to watch about how Teeh M@n had teh pwnz0r! Still... Phillip was not in the mood for teh r0XX0r3$t network out there. He needed something... fulfilling. The idea came to him swiftly as he encroached upon the main room with the TV. He would watch ‘Pokebattles four eleven!’ The channel was, almost ironically channel four twelve. He figured he may as well learn something about how the heck he was supposed to battle with Pokemon.

It seemed the TV was already occupied however... and by none other than Chef Jimmy. “Oh...” Phil stated quietly as he arrived in the room. “You’re watching something, I take it.”

“Eh?” asked the chef, as he yawned slightly. “Well, you having trouble sleeping?” he asked, “Or are you maybe... perhaps an insomniac like I am?”

These words caught the Molson boy off guard. “You? You have trouble sleeping?”

Jimmy almost went into his family trademarked laugh, but he was used to keeping it quiet at night after almost two years of sleep deprivation, all brought about by the depression of knowing that his brother was out there lost, and crazy in a world of dangers. To be unable to enjoy the wonderful, yet temporal escape from reality, where the mind runs rampant in strange dreams that often made no sense, and really only occurred during the few hours before one actually awoke. This feeling had become a rarity to the chef in question. “No, I simply can’t sleep. There’s a painful, yet obvious difference. Please, stay a while,” the Jimmy began, “I would like the nightly company to keep me from boredom.”

“Right...” replied Phil in a most pompous tone. “I don’t really care, to be honest. By the way, you can cook a good bratwurst.” He looked at the TV, and oh so suddenly forgot to acknowledge that the chef was a person, intentionally. “What are you watching?” He asked, as he saw a strange silver creature with two large horns and a dark grey underbelly sat in front of a boiling pot.

“It’s the Aggron Chef!” said Jimmy. “Did you want to watch something else?”

“Yea, the battle channel!” Phil replied. “I figure I should, in order to learn how I’m supposed to handle Pokemon and stuff.”

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. “Well, if you want to learn a bit, I could tell you a few things. It’d be nice if it were daytime so I could explain with your Pokemon as well... I guess we could go by what you see on the show, and I’ll help you out.”

Phil grinned. “Great. I could use all the help I could get, now that Gina has decided to abandon me.” He said it in such a carefree tone. He wanted to draw some sympathy from he murderer’s brother, yet he didn’t want it to be so obvious. Before the chef could even speak out against this, Phil spoke again. “Ah, let’s just watch, shall we?”

As he channel changed, the screen showed two creatures staring at one another angrily. One appeared to be a large orange beast with small wings that didn’t seem quite the right size to support its body enough to keep it airborne, yet all the same, the creature seemed to take to the air as if it were nothing. At the other edge of the field was a purple snake with what appeared to be a large flat head, colorful with blacks, reds and yellows. Atop that, there was another head, which Phil assumed was a real head, as it showed some blinking eyes, and a fang filled mouth. The TV spoke, ‘It looks like Ralpho’s Arbok is going up against Kail’s Dragonite.’

“That Arbok has to be the winner.” Phil chuckled. “I mean, the thing can fly, and looks huge compared to that little dragonite.”

Jimmy giggled like a little schoolgirl at that. “You’re almost funny when you’re not in a stupid rage.” He stated, before starting to explain. “The Dragonite is the flying one... but don’t be so sure that it’s assured to win. Just because it is larger and physically stronger.”

“That sounds like a sure win to me if it’s bigger and stronger than the little snake there.” Phil replied with a shrug. After all, wasn’t a Pokemon all about power and speed? Was it not important to beat your foe with overpowering might?

Jimmy shook his head. In the dark of the room, Phil only saw it vaguely enough. “You’ve got much to learn, but I’m sure you’ll catch on soon enough. An important part of training is trust between a trainer and their Pokemon, and strategy is another aspect... eh, lets just watch, shall we?”

Phil grunted, as he watched the screen. ‘Arbok!’ shouted a manly voice of a person not seen on the screen. ‘Use screech!’ To this command, the snake unleashed a high pitched shout at the top of its serpentine lungs.

‘Dragonite!’ yelled another masculine voice, this one a bit more raspy, and sounding a bit lisped. ‘Thart thith battle with Body Thlam!’ At that, the dragon dove to the snake at great speed, only to be incapacitated by the loudness of the snake’s shriek. As it did, it shivered slightly, and put its hands to its ears. ‘Come on, ignore that thound!’ yelled he lisped voice. ‘Oh thit!’ he yelled, his voice was of course, uncensored here, even though his word was exactly just one letter too far to become a fecal swear word. Indeed, uncensored swearing on television was a blessing to the land of Kertonmel... and many young men with hormones were hoping to remove censorship from nudity as well with a governmental appeal.

‘Now’s your chance Arbok!’ said a voice from off the screen. ‘Get it with Poison Fang! Hurry!’ At that command, the snake lunged, its mouth opened widely to reveal a set of sharp, razor sharp fangs that dripped a threateningly fatal liquid. ‘Get it now!’ He commanded, and at that, the snake latched onto the dragon’s leg, and bit into its knee with a sickening snap of its stretchy snake jaws. With a loud yelp of pain, the dragon flailed about.

‘Counter!’ yelled the lisped man as swiftly as the snake’s teeth snuck into his dragon’s leg. The beast began to almost glow a faint yellow for a second, only to have that force suddenly course through the snake’s body and wrack it with pain.

Jimmy smiled. “Glowing is more than enough. Counter simply lashes back against an attack used against it right then and there, and cause twice as much pain as it receives from the attacker.” His explanation didn’t really help Phil all that much, but Phil shrugged his shoulders anyway, pretending to have a full understanding of what he had just been told.

At that, the snake released its grasp from the dragon’s leg, and fell to the ground. It was hardly done fighting though, rest assured. The dragon also wasn’t looking so wonderful either, with the gash in its leg. It was looking a bit dizzy too, which was strange for something as simple as a small gash. It wasn’t even at a fatal location on the reptile’s body, unless Dragonites had their hearts in their knees. ‘Arbok, use Sludge Bomb!’ The order was given, enticing the snake’s mouth to open widely. As it did, a strange liquid substance formed in its mouth. It looked repulsive, with its sickly green-yellow shade, and its seemingly unstable formation. It looked as though it were volatile enough to explode.

‘Dodge it Dragonite!’ spoke the lisped man. It was no use though. Even as th dragon tried to take to the skies to avoid the sludgy mess, it was hit in its underbelly at full force. As he repulsive sphere struck, it exploded into a disgusting mess, as acid burned into the creature’s skin. It yelped in pain as it fell backwards, weak and tired. It landed on the floor with a thud, on its backside, as it breathed up a smoggy cloud of poison. It appeared that the weaker lizard had won.

Phil was amazed. These trainers seemed so skilled and knowledgeable. It made him doubt he’d ever be able to keep up with such power, should he truly go through with this journey. “How can a simple snake beat a superior dragon?” Phil asked. “I guess I can be unstoppable too if I catch an Arbok.”

Jimmy smiled. “You’ll understand in due time, Phil. It’s all about how well the trainer and his Pokemon trust each other’s skills. Predicting your opponent is important as well.”

Phil grunted, and shrugged his shoulders, yawning as he did. Before he knew it, in what literally felt like a blink of an eye, the room was brighter, and the city around seemed to be teeming with the hustle and bustle of life once more. The funny thing was, he didn’t remember dreaming. “Huh?” he asked, as he saw Gina, and both Jimmies standing over him as he lay on his back. “What are you all staring at?” he snapped suddenly.

“You, obviously.” Gina replied. “You should wake up before you miss breakfast.”

“Oh...” Phil replied, “of course.” He wasn’t truly very hungry, but he figured he would probably need the energy for the long, lonely road. “So... where should I go?” the boy asked curiously. “I mean, I need to find the gym. Where’s the town’s gym?” he asked.

The chef shook his head. “There isn’t one. You’ll have to go to either Lombta to the west through the forests, or Kayma, to the Northeast, and in this city’s suburbs. There’s also Qashune to the south east, also through forests, and a few cliffs... but that’s somewhat farther away.”

Gina eyed Phil carefully. “Wherever you go, I’m not going. Remember that.” She reminded him just how much she wanted to avoid him, and avoid knowing he even existed.

“Fine then!” he replied rudely. “I’m going to Lombta!” he stated firmly, “and I don’t need a useless ***** like you!” he added harshly. “Go on and travel with your murderer!”

At this, Verick walked up to Phil. The redhead spoke up nervously. “Vait!” he stated. “Jyou’re going to Lombta, jya? I have to go there too... vould it be alright if I were to go vith you?”

“Yea!” Phil stated with a nod, “Yea Verick. I think that’d be dandy of you! I could enjoy your intelligent company much more than that little wuss any day!” He grinned as he spoke in a spiteful tone, and held his hand out to Verick. The Viking stared at it for a second, scared. “Well... are you going to shake my hand or not?”

“Oh, yea! I vill.” He replied, as he grasped the boy’s hand in his own, giving him a hearty handshake of friendship. “I appreciate this. It vould be safer than if I were to be going at it alone.”

After a nice breakfast of waffles, provided by... who else? Why, chef Jimmy of course. After eating waffles, the two traveling groups went on their way. At long last, after what had felt like an eternity and a half, Phil was free from the nightmare that was yesterday. Finally, Phil, and Gina were on their quest at long last.

Phil smiled as he reached the forest at the edge of the city. It was the best way to go, according to the older Jimmy. Rather than for Phil to go through he town, he and Verick would go around it. “Ugh...” he sighed as he walked up the forest pathway. “I almost feel like I’m headed back to Hallsburg on this path... I wanna stay AWAY from home right about now.”

Verick shrugged. “Vhy don’t you capture some Pokemon, if jyou are a trainer, ya?”

“Ya!” Phil replied in a mocking tone. “I think I will.” He grinned as he glanced about the forest. The sight of large grass, tall trees, and colorful flowers of reds, and yellows reminded him of peace and tranquility. “Doesn’t this all make you want to puke?” he asked in a relaxed tone, and an evil smile on his face.

“No, it does not.” Verick replied. In spite of his manifest destiny that told his astronomer instincts ‘Go Up, Young Man,’ Verick enjoyed the soothing tranquility and warmth of the forest... it was after all, nature’s bread basket of bountiful enjoyment... or something like that.

Phil grinned as he heard a rustle from a nearby bush. “Hah!” he laughed, “Looks like I have my first catch on the road to my sister’s destiny.” he grinned. “Come out, little slave! Face me!”

The rustle began to die down, and out from the tall shrubbery, leapt a vision of purple. This purple seemed to be small, and vaguely familiar to Phil. <Finally!> it shouted in a language Phil did not understand. It was eager to be away from the forest... it had found a human at last!

Dilasc

16th November 2005, 6:50 PM

Hey all you closet readers! I've been hard at work spiffying up the writing, fixing spelling errors, writing errors, and all kinds of gramatical mistakes. All for YOUR reading enjoyment. So far, Chapters one and two have been fixed, so take a look if you'd like, eh? Don't forget to review, please?

More will be corrected, editted, and heck, even some basic plot points will change as I fix things up.

FlamingRuby

17th November 2005, 3:25 AM

As promised, here's your review:

Description: Very nice!
Characters: You do great at giving everyone distanct personalities.
Plot: This is definitely not your typical journey...

Rating: ;025; ;025; ;025; ;025;

xXSaberXx

17th November 2005, 6:33 AM

I've decided to do one chapter at a time, dear. I just am really too busy for more. ^^ I'll try to do one chapter a day or so, alright? Finally getting around to this fic....:P

Kind of odd here.....the '!' was unesscary, it makes it seem like you're using both Third and First person......and makes it kind of awkward. You continue to do that throughout the whole chapter. Brings across a sense of choppyness.

Phil seems like an angry, depressed teen. So sad. ;-; I do hope he changes.

3. Next to it, a red-orange, baby chicken stood with beady black eyes and a lithe form, shaped like the flame of a lit candle wafting calmly in the wind. Its wings, stubbly and hidden from reality as they were, were too small to enable this creature the gravity defying power of flight. It was no doubt to the sad boy that this was a frying chicken. It looked kind of weak and innocent, but then again, it looked way better than option three.

LOVE that description. Best thing ever. Very cute and kinda funny, though a bit morbid. Frying chicken? Heh heh.

-Overall:

This fic(Though only Prolouge,) shows promise. There were several awkward instances, such as how Phil kept lashing out. So angry it made me cry. ;-; I can understand, but still. ^^;; Do hope he morphs and changes, eventually. xP

Description is very good, and not lacking, though spaces between talking is. Even if it IS the same person, you input description before it and make it seem very mashed. Try spacing more? Maybe that will help.

Sometimes commas are inputted unnecessarily or in the wrong place. Other than that, it's a good story, and I can't wait to read more! ^^ *hugs*

See ya!

Saber.

Seijiro Mafuné

17th November 2005, 5:07 PM

Izzat an Ekans?

Dilasc

19th November 2005, 5:05 AM

FlamingRuby: Thanks. A bit short, but gld to know you enjoy, or at least I’m hoping so, since it wasn’t stated in that way.

xXSaberXx: Keep reading. You will find that improvements are abound as the story progresses. After all, these earlier chapters are about a year old. Just wait until you meet Jimmy! He’s a blood curdling scream.

Seijiro: Bleh, that nam is hard to spell. Uh, it was an arbok. Ya know, an evolved ekans? Snakes are cool though, but you may want to sound a bit less... spammy, just letting ya know. Might wanna use some more useful words next time.

Hey folks! It's preview time. This preview features two Kertonmel Pokemon too. Introducing Fudgie and Corvolden, two pokemon with strange, and original bases, if I dare say so myselfl. After all, Fudge brownie with sprinkles and candy corn for teeth, and the others and an ear of corn with a spark plug on its tail. Seriously, you sometimes need to ask yourselves where I come up with this stuff. Anyway, on with the preview, since this will hopefully be a long one.

Start Preview

Jimmy, as he and Gina watched, whispered into Gina’s ear. “That Corvolden. It’s one of the starters commonly used in Kertonmel.”

Gina eyed him. “Really?” she replied in a confused manner. “Why didn’t I get one?”

“Because,” he began, a slight hint of pompousness in his voice, “You have a foreign starter, that’s why.”

Gina still didn’t understand it too well, nor did she quite understand how Jimmy even knew all of this to begin with. He was, after all, a crazy person... how could he be intelligent at the same time? “Explain it later.” she said, quietly. To these words, Jimmy’s only response was a nod as his eyes returned to the fight.

Their talk costed them a few seconds of the action. As the corn plug uncurled from its leafy shell, the brownie beast was in its face, a scent emanating from its chocolate goodness. It’s mouth opened, revealing colorful teeth, a blend of orange and yellow, shaped like candy corn. It looked at the corn beast with its sugary fangs, threatening to take a chomp out of a shocking veggie meal.

End Preview

Remember folks, I may have led you all to believe that I wanted reward exepmtion, but the fact is, I DIDN'T! Go ahead, nominate Dust to Deceit or Fossil Fool if you enjoyed it so much, I won't get angry... but that's probably obvious, isn't it?

xXSaberXx

19th November 2005, 6:03 AM

Interlude 1:

Nothing much to complain about here. Short, and kind of funny. Haha...man with the planets 'round his headdddddd *sings* Kinda confusing on the whole Getnal....erm...thing. xP Doubt I spelled that right.

Other than that...

What better power than some of the largest entities in the known universe.

Question mark here, no matter what the context. ^^ What better, as in, comparing, and the sentence that follows should have a question mark. Definetly. ^^

Chapter 2:

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil oh so suddenly nodded in understanding.

Oh so 'insert whatever here' is commonly used as a first person kind of POV phrase, or a dialouge part. Unless the character is thinking this, then it's like you're trying to hard to use common terms and make the reader understand you. Sometimes, this is really bad. :/ You frequently do this throughout this chapter. I hope that goes away later, because it kinda throws me off and makes me go.....'HUH?' ^^ It could just be your style, but it still is very...erm...interesting... ^^;;;

“Well then.” went the professorial man as the two kids were all geared up. “I guess my work is done.” he exhaled

"Well then," went the professorial man as the two kids were all geared up. "I guess my work is done." He exhaled

A continuation sentence should have a comma at the end, wether it has more dialouge or ends there. The 'went' after the period was very awkward. Also, you made the most elemetary of mistakes, quite repeatedly. The typo of capital letters! =O Heehee, dun worry though. I do it too. Just remember to always keep in mind that a period ends things, and a capital begins. I'm sure it's just a typo. A repeated typo, which is something no one likes. You keep doing it, and I keep seing it. After a sentence usually. Like..."Dahahah." he said. Not good, dear. ^^;;;

In every way the image of his father, the only differences between son and father were hair color, eye color, and the absence of bodily adult graces, like hair growth akin to an abominable snow yeti.

That...made me laugh...so hard.....Sounds like my UNCLES! xPPPPPPP

There had been enough bloodshed by far, and one never knows what happens, though it was extremely doubtful that any lash outs would exist.

I have no clue what you are saying here. You have your past tenses mixed up, and that makes it confusing to the point of unreadable. The wording is very nice, it's just the tenses. :/

An utter conquest of blood and water, both not nearly as thick as the barrier to the reasons against such preposterous ideas.

^^ Prettyful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All in all, good job. Could use plenty more improvement, but I only saw one spelling error! Yay! So it's only the grammatics. I think you strive to make good sentences, but the way you write them just doesn't have the same effect. I get that feeling too. :/ Good job!!! ^^b *applause*

Yuugis Black Magician

20th November 2005, 5:28 PM

Chapter 1 Review

Although I’m a bad reviewer, I’ll give it a shot since you gave ToP: aTP a shot. I read the original version of DtD long ago, and personally found it too unrealistically dark, but now my friend that sort of Tim Burton feel is gone with this revision, Phil is a heck of a lot less annoying, and the story is as gory, yet…I’ll continue to read, it I’ve got the time, which I don’t ‘cause I’ve got homework to do…later…

Could I ask you to read the Journey of Champion: in Kanto it’s well-written novel by my idol, the link to it is in my signature at the very bottom. Thanks, I’m going to go read Chapter two now of DtD.

Dilasc

22nd November 2005, 3:18 AM

Saber: You need to keep reading. Jimmy is an aspect of insanity, and mindlessness that I'm sure you have an affinity for.

YBM: It's amazing what a few read overs, and revisions can do. I was quite impressed with the improvements I made over the first copy, and the new content is also very fun to write.

Remember folks, I have NOT exempted myself from the upcoming rewards, so Dust to Deceit is a very tangible choice. Don’t be shy to nominate me. I won’t say no (like you’d even think I would.) Also, don’t forget about the notification list. Does Dust to Deceit leave you on the edge of your seat, waiting to find out what happens next? Well, with the list, YOU CAN FIND OUT! Just ask to be placed on it, and your wishes will come true... and so will mine!

Also, I've been experimenting on art programs to get the perfect appearance for my Oni legendaries. Now, I utterly suck balls at drawing, so should my readers dare want to have a peak at the demon masks, be prepared for a very strange outcome that will require you to add the ability to make it look more EVIL and demonic. Well now, on we go!

Dust to Deceit

In ancient times, Kertonmel was feral, and dragons ruled the land. It wasn’t until the year 917 that man managed to drive the dragons out of control. It is from the region’s conqueror, Randolph Kertmol, that the name Kertonmel is derived.
-Kertonmel National History Book, page 147

Chapter 14 - Sewer and Later

The sound of dripping sound echoed about through the darkened, dank corridors of the winding pipelines, and vast amounts of sludge. The stench that permeated about would be perfume if it were opposite day.

Those who dared to trek the sewers beneath the bustling city of Feltinburg likely didn’t fear the unhealthy air, or its putrid scent. It was either that or the fact that their jobs revolved around sewage control, or they could be hobos. Regardless, the fact remained that with nearly three million people above, anyone who decided to avoid the heavy crowds and traffic jams, was usually in deep, deep ********... though more likely, it came from the rear-end of another human being.

“It’s almost easy to get lost down here.” Gina stated, ignoring the dripping water, and the prospective smell. The sewers, though obviously rancid in odor, were bearable to the young girl. She wasn’t going to coward out just because of a little stinkiness. She would press on, and better herself, and fulfill a dream of her own, and remain free of the conflicts she had at home with her drunkard of a father. As she stepped forward, along the dry part of the side, where a walkway resided for those who dared to trek, she and he ex-psycho Jimmy were well on their way to the suburbs, where the gym resided, according to Chef Jimmy’s logic, and the sewer travel just so happened to be another idea of his as well. Gina had yet to confirm to herself whether it was a good thing or not, but thus far, the only things they had come across were a few Rattata, and a few purple Pokemon.

“This place...” Jimmy began, shaking ever so slightly in panic, “It smells...” he began, pausing in the drama of the moment. After a deep intake of breath, he continued “It smells like death ” His eyes widened in fear at the thought.

Gina eyed him as he said that. “You’re just weak stomached.”

Jimmy shook his head swiftly. “Gina, I know the scent.” he replied, as calmly as he could remain under such fear. “Don’t forget that I used to be insane and enthralled with death.” His eyes wandered about as he said this, as though he were on a constant lookout for the reaper, waiting from the shadows to whisk him off to the netherworld sooner than a moments notice. “Something has died down here recently...” he said, sniffing the air, flinching to the scent of fecal waste products and other mysterious stinky horrors that lurked below the giant city. “I think it was human ” he gasped. “We should be cautious.”

Gina didn’t really know what to say or think about whatever the heck Jimmy was talking about, and thus took his seemingly omnipotent words with a grain of salt. “Whatever...” she shrugged, trying to change the subject. “Maybe I can catch a Pokemon down here.” she stated, “I bet there’s plenty of Grimer and Fudgie down here.”

“We re traveling the low road.” Jimmy stated. He almost sounded as though he were making a fancy speech.

Gina shrugged. “Well, we are indeed beneath the streets, so yea! So I guess it is a ‘low road,’ so to speak.” she sighed, as her eyes continued to explore the dank, stinkpot of a dungeon that sat beneath the city.

“The low road means death!” Jimmy stated with his eyes widened. “That... that is a fact of life.” As he finished that, a drip of water splashed upon his black hair. The scent it carried was both putrid and mysterious, but thankfully it was only a tiny drop.

Gina shrugged yet again. “You worry too much.” she sighed.

Jimmy was quivering now. “We should get outta here, now!” he yelled. His voice echoed as he spoke, carrying his words through the thin pipelines as the water caused his voice to echo even more strongly amongst the empty, putrid air. “We gotta get out!” he yelled panicked with the fear of life in him.

It had been so long since he had remembered the feeling of fear, and of pain. He had been so free of emotion... so free of morals, and contentment. In his insanity, he simply lived like a savage, living off the pain of the land, and the strange thrill from the humans and creatures he had killed.

As he grasped Gina’s shoulder, he suddenly realized the horror even worse than the fear. He was afraid for himself! How dare he even think he deserved to have such selfish feelings, and the prospect of life.

“Let go!” screamed Gina, as she struggled to release herself from his strong, firm grasp. With the snap back to attention, Jimmy complied. “Something’s wrong, I ca tell.”

Jimmy nodded. “I felt afraid...” he stated sadly, before he added a few more words with widened eyes and a tone of self pity. “I felt fear for myself and my own life. I’m an awful, awful person.”

Gina’s eyes widened. She felt sorry for the man. He was so down, and depressed. He must have hated himself so much that if he had lost her friendship, he would have drowned himself in the stink below, no doubt.

“No.” She replied, seriously, but not too harshly. “That is simply a part of being alive, and enjoying life. Fearing death means to be alive.” Gina explained, rustling her green hair as she glanced ahead. “I’m not leaving here though.”

Jimmy nodded, gulping in fear and regret. “Regardless, I do not deserve to live.” He took a deep breath, the stench of death sending a chill up his spine. He spoke again as he stood in front of the girl. “I’ll remain here for your sake and safety, even though I wish to escape.”

At that, they resumed their walk through the dank underground. That was, of course, until they heard voices up ahead. What they saw was quite a sight. It was for Gina, at least. What they heard was even more amazing. “Okay, Corvolden.” said a male voice in an eerily calm tone. “Hit that Fudgie with Thunder Shock!” The male who was talking looked to be in his late teens. His lavender hair flowed back to about an inch below his shoulders, giving him a most effeminate look. She would have definitely mistaken this person for a girl, if it weren’t for the goatee he sported, which was also a bright purple to match his hair. His eyes were a blue, splashed with a slight tint of dark green, giving him a most awkward appearance. Gina almost shivered at the strangeness of the awful clash of his colors.

The creature he spoke to, was even stranger. The beast at his feet looked much like an ear of corn, but lacking in kernels. Instead of a leafy stem at the bottom, it looked as though it had a spark plug, and the leaves at its side looked sharp, as though they were meant for battling purposes. The oddest thing about it was that it had only one eye with a red pupil on its yellow, corny face. With a single time saying its name, the corn beast jumped up, its leafy legs propelling it airborne, as the sparkplug on its rear began to glow bright.

The target, the ‘Fudgie,’ as Gina recognized it, was waiting in the filthy, and slime infested water below. Amongst the green, and icky brown sewage, an entity eyed the corny beast that glowed so brightly. From what could be seen from above the water, the beast was brown, and its skin was wrinkly. It almost looked like a fudge brownie, and would have made anyone hungry if it weren’t for the piece of green goop on its rectangular head.

In a leap, it escaped the water, avoiding the oncoming electrical shock. Now, it could truly be said that the creature was much of a rectangle. Its body looked to be composed of fudge, with a mouth made of what looked like a light brown frosting, and eyes of whiter variety, with a single sprinkle for each eyeball. All in all, it was amazing how something that looked so yummy was actually a sewer beast composed of waste products.

“Hang in there, Corvolden.” said the lavender haired male, as he thought carefully. “Get it with Leech Seed as it draws close.” he said after a second of thought. To that, he one eyed corn beast nodded as it landed on the ground once more, only barely dodging a possible, but not too likely death by chocolate. The beast of brown grunted its name, as it shot a strange, brown ooze from its mouth, straight for the ear of corn. “Defense Curl.” he stated calmly, to which the corn creature swiftly covered its body with its leafy arms, and curled into as spherical a shape as possible, which just so happened to look like an egg.

Jimmy, as he and Gina watched, whispered into Gina’s ear. “That Corvolden. It’s one of the starters commonly used in Kertonmel.”

Gina eyed him. “Really?” she replied in a confused manner. “Why didn’t I get one?”

“Because,” he began, a slight hint of pompousness in his voice, “You have a foreign starter, that’s why.”

Gina still didn’t understand it too well, nor did she quite understand how Jimmy even knew all of this to begin with. He was, after all, a crazy person... how could he be intelligent at the same time? “Explain it later.” she said, quietly. To these words, Jimmy’s only response was a nod as his eyes returned to the fight.

Their talk costed them a few seconds of the action. As the corn plug uncurled from its leafy shell, the brownie beast was in its face, a scent emanating from its chocolate goodness. It’s mouth opened, revealing colorful teeth, a blend of orange and yellow, shaped like candy corn. It looked at the corn beast with its sugary fangs, threatening to take a chomp out of a shocking veggie meal.

The electrical veggie was more than prepared for the chomping jaws. “Spark!” the command went out from the lavender haired male. His voice deep, and filled with confidence and command. As the jaws sunk in, the plant lashed with its spark plug, and jabbed the brownie, penetrating its chocolate flavored skin. And then, it began to surge with electricity. It coursed through its body, and the body of the brownie beast as well, but while the ear of corn didn’t seem to even flinch, the odorous dairy product felt a painful numbing of its joints and jaw as its body surged with painful bolts of pure energy. Lightning, of course, is swift and deadly, and no sooner than it began, the light show had come to an end, and with a push from its sharp, plugging tail, the corn was released from the venomous jaws of the dessert of doom.

The lavender haired man smiled. “Well done, Corvolden!” he cheered, as he held the red and white sphere that was, without a doubt in Gina’s mind, a Pokeball. “Go!” he shouted, his voice echoing off of the walls, and sludge scented liquid below.

The ball struck its target, which was, of course, the vile brownie. With its mysterious powers, the patterned ball converted the creature into infrared energy, and absorbed said energy quickly afterwards. The ball shook in place, violently from side to side, as it even bounced an inch or two off the ground, but it did not open. After a few seconds, the ball stopped, completely motionless at long last, as a loud, yet at the same time soft noted ding was heard.

“Wow!” stated Gina. “That feminine guy caught a Fudgie!” She was impressed. This strange, effeminate looking man seemed to know damned well what he was doing, especially as he turned his head, and stared right at Gina. Gina’s brown eyes clashed against the turquoise eyes of the man before her, and a smile crept to the odd man’s face. It scared the girl that he could be so happy to be stalked.

“Hello.” began the pinkish haired man. “Were you enjoying my little skirmish?” He asked, his remained fixated on the girl the whole time. It was as though the ring faced Jimmy did not even exist. His face grimaced slightly though as he spoke again. “Or were you just staring at my ugly hair?”

Gina blinked. “Er, no, uh, nothing!” she blurted out quickly. She was unsure how to answer such a blunt, and to the point question.

The pinkish haired male grinned. “Well, I see that I’m leaving you speechless, but can you perhaps tell me your name?” His eyebrows widened as he said this, and he flashed a toothy grin. It had seemed that this man must have had the availability of a toothbrush in the recent past, as his teeth were rather white and clean.

“Gina.” the green haired girl replied quickly.

He smiled as his eyes wandered her very form. “Charmed,” he smiled, “I’m Dame.” He held his hand out in front of him, catching Gina’s confused glance. He chuckled slightly. “Well?” he asked, his tone friendly. “Are you gonna shake my hand, or am I gonna need to tug your shirt off.” He winked.

Jimmy’s eyes widened at this. “Alright jerk! Get lost!” he snarled.

Dame grinned. “It’s called a joke.” he shrugged. He had honestly thought that it would go over a bit worse. Dame was glad that it didn’t. “I had no idea that Jimmies took up the role of bodyguard though.” He swiftly blocked Jimmy out of his mind as his gaze returned to Gina. “Now, I need to ask you an honest question.”

Gina was about ready to claw her way out of here and trample down the entire city, simply to get away from this creepy pink haired weirdo. “No, I don’t want to go with you and eat your stinkin’ candy!”

The male with pink hair chuckled loudly at that statement. “Ha! I’d actually prefer you’d eat my bratwurst.” he smiled, noticing the angry look on the girl’s face before changing the subject swiftly. “But honestly now, would you like to have a Pokemon battle?”

Gina calmed at this. “Oh, a battle... sounds okay to me.” she shrugged, sighing as she came to realize a simple problem. “I only have one Pokemon though.” It saddened her. Even that good-for-nothing lowlife, Phillip, managed to catch a Pokemon before she did, and the fact was, Phil utterly sucked when it came to dealing with Pokemon in any way shape or form.

The pink haired man grinned as he stepped towards the green haired girl. “I like you.” he stated happily. Perhaps, a bit too happily. Gina was scared that he may try and do something naughty. “Here, I got something for a nice girl like you.” he smirked. “It’s nice and hard.”

“Jimmy!” she yelled, terrified. “Don’t let him do nasty things to me!”

Before Jimmy could react with a punch with the power to rearrange the man’s jaw, the oddball held out a ball. It looked like a Pokeball, except for the slightly different coloration being blue instead of red. “It’s a greatball. Take a look inside.”

Gina was shocked. A complete stranger was offering her a free Pokemon. Something was very, very wrong. “I... I can’t except your charity!” she replied nastily.

It seemed that the freaky man was way ahead of her. “Perhaps,” he began, “you would like to earn my gift?” The wink he added at the end scared Gina. “Show me a good battle, and it’s yours. What do you say?”

Gina sighed. “Fine, I will battle you.”

“Great.” he said calmly, holding a Pokeball before him. In a zap of light, the corn creature was gone. “Now then, for this battle, I will use Pidgey.” he smirked, as he tossed another Pokeball, unleashing a small, brown bird. It looked so calm and docile.

Still, Gina knew she’d be a at a disadvantage against a creature of the skies, and she also knew not to underestimate the abilities of a pidgey. “Fine then.” she replied calmly. “Bulbasaur, let’s go.” At that, the Pokeball she grabbed opened up, revealing the leaf-backed lizard from its storage.

“A foreign starter.” stated Dame. “You must be from Hallsburg. I have a question for you when we’re done fighting.” he paused for a second to grin maliciously, and seductively. “Trust me, this one isn’t about getting into your pants, as much as any guy would want to if he had genitals.”

“Would you knock off the perverse innuendos?” yelled Jimmy. “I swear! If you so much as even tap this girl on the shoulder...” he paused, as his breath heaved heavily to calm himself down, and relieve his tension. “Well, you’ll find out why they call me Psycho Jimmy.” Gina’s eyes widened in horror.

With a sigh of relief, Jimmy eyed Gina with a grin and a wink. “Relax, I trust him not to try anything too stupid.” He hoped he was right. “That is, if he truly wants to keep his manly genitals in their proper place.”

<Oh goodie!> cawed the Pidgey in a language the humans could not understand. <Looks like Dame is at it AGAIN!> the bird sighed, swooping down to the ground in order to have a hopefully intelligent conversation with the leafy dinosaur. <I must admit, the girl is kinda cute though.> This caught the Bulbasaur’s attention, and a funny look from the green beast. <Uh, ya know! For a human.> the bird added quickly as it perched itself upon the ground. With a shrug of its wings, it spoke again. <Eh, I really suck at judging others of my own gender.>

The dinosaur rolled its eyes. <They say, we take on the personalities of our trainers as we grow attached and used to them. Gina’s got her heart in the right place, but her mind seems conflicted. To be honest, I have no idea what’s chewing her up.> Its voice sounded masculine as it spoke, a trait that most male Pokemon possessed, unlike the humans they lived alongside of. It was rare for male Pokemon to sound effeminate, and females to sound masculine, unless their species just so happened to be that way. <So...> The bulbed reptile began, trying to think of the perfect conversation starter. This was, after all, its st chance in a long time to have a chat with someone else who could understand him, or at least the language he speaks. <What kind of strategies would your trainer use to beat me in battle?>

The Pidgey laughed, as it swiftly sprung back into the air. It clenched its right talons tightly, and revealed its central talon. In short, the Pidgey was flipping him the bird. <You honestly think I’m going to tell you?> The bird squaked in laughter. <Nice try. So... shove off, little boy!>

The Bulbasaur rolled its eyes in response. <Geez, woman, no need to ***** about it and throw the bird.> the teal beast stated, sighing slightly as it looked upwards to look face-to-face <What would you like to talk about then, if not battling?>

The bird shrugged, its face pointed to the drippy sewer ceiling above, as it rudely avoided the dinosaur’s gaze. <Who says I want to even talk to you about anything?> The bird replied haughtily, as she watched the humans argue in their own mysterious ways.

“Oh yea?” retorted the lavender haired male. “Well you...” he paused, unable to think of anything further to say on the subject, except for one thing. “Wait a second. What the heck are we arguing about anyways?”

The ring faced man now stopped as well. “I... I don’t know. Heck, I don’t even have the foggiest idea as to why I said that whole thing about color vowels.” He shrugged his shoulders, brushing the aforementioned statements aside. “Anyway, weren’t you and Gina about to battle right about now?”

“We sure were.” Gina nodded and replied kindly, before raising her voice to meet the drama of the battle. “Alright Bulbasaur. Let’s get to it!” With that, the bluish green lizard nodded its head, and stood at the ready.

“Let’s go, Pidgey.” smiled the lavender haired weirdo, as his bird took flight at its master’s side. “Let’s get it on...” he stated coyly. He followed it up with a grin, and winked at the girl, “Somewhere private, after the battle.”

“Give it a rest!” yelled Gina, as her eyes narrowed on the Pidgey. “Bulbasaur...” she began, “Let’s start this fight out nice and easy.”

Seijiro Mafuné

23rd November 2005, 12:02 AM

. . .

Okay, just imagine that those ellipses were indicators of time, and that each one is a pause.

Now fill that with laughter.

That's how much I laughed. Pretty good. You write really fine.

Shadowcat

23rd November 2005, 5:07 AM

Love the story Dilasc. I'm engrossed in it already, even though I only read Chapter One and Two.

But, since people have pointed your mistakes, I feel like I do not need to repeat them.

Till then, also, call me Sapphire,

Sapphire

mindripper

23rd November 2005, 8:37 PM

Dilasc, I really feel that you should condense your chapters a little more. I know that there is sometimes a need for interludes and all that, but you should seriously consider condensing chapters and then posting them further apart? New readers like me find it so hard to get into the story, especially when there are so many chapters posted already.

I have not read everything yet, but perhaps you should make your description less staccato? By making paragraphs differ in size, perhaps? Most of your paragraphs are about a couple lines long, and that can be a bad mistake to make.

Also, the plot has original elements, but I have not finished reading yet, so I guess I will make my mind up on that later, if possible?

Dilasc

24th November 2005, 4:20 AM

Siejiro: Okay then. I did not know I had the comedy, but so be it.

xXSapphireXx: Wonderful. One less person missing out makes the world a better place.

mindripper: Ah, I was wondering when you’d get around to this. Anyway, what you’re asking will require a lot of time. Perhaps renaming them from interlude would be a smart idea, but this is nothing that truly scars the story in an irrevocable way, is it? When the time comes, I will consider condensing this... that is, if I understand what you mean by condense in this term on the word.

Anyway, time to post basic statistics of the newly met Pokemon. All you kids at home playing aong with your Pokedex, be sure to pay close attention.

Corvolden
Name Derivative: It's a corn, with volts, meh, just take it!
Type: Grass/Electric
Evolutions: Evolves at level eighteen, and then again at 36. Meh, it's a starter, you have to expect this stuff.
Ability: Overgrow

That is all, folks. Tune in next time... which is whenever Dust to Deceit introduces a new creature.

mindripper

24th November 2005, 4:30 PM

mindripper: Ah, I was wondering when you’d get around to this. Anyway, what you’re asking will require a lot of time. Perhaps renaming them from interlude would be a smart idea, but this is nothing that truly scars the story in an irrevocable way, is it? When the time comes, I will consider condensing this... that is, if I understand what you mean by condense in this term on the word.

Hmm, I remember you reviewing one of my fics, and so am here to return the favour. Even if I remembered wrongly, I have no qualms about reviewing for an author who does not get as many as the work deserves.

I wanted a more condensed version, as in more compacted, with chapters reworked and thrown together. It is fine if it cannot be done, but it was just a point that I decided to raise.

Dilasc

28th November 2005, 3:53 AM

I'm working some revisions to my earlier chapters. There may be some delays with the up and coming new chapters. Until then, you have these fourteen to read and five wonderful little interludes, folks. Tell your friends, or something. Dust to Deceit is NOT done for. Now, more than ever, I cling to the future of Dust to Deceit, to rise to the top, no matter the cost or sacrifice. I will overcome all obstacles of popularity, and WILL perservere... eventually. Until then, happy reading, everybody.

No new preview yet, I'm afraid. That may take some time too. Sorry, and to all of you who currently DO read, and those of you who've read since the start, I say thanks, even to you closet readers, I say thank you.

Shadowcat

28th November 2005, 5:13 AM

I said call me Sapphire! *Whacks Dilasc with a pair of chopsticks*

Anyways, here's what I like in Chapter 3:

“Murderous scum!” Phil sneered! His voice was filling with volume as his grip began to tighten around the creature’s neck. Though the gator’s mouth went wide, desperately trying to fill its being with oxygen, it did not scream. On the inside though, it was desperately, and deeply afraid. Afraid for its life… afraid for its trainer’s life.

I love those lines. Anyways, till next time. But it'll take a while. I'm a busy person.

But still, I love this fic.

Sapphire

Dilasc

3rd December 2005, 11:38 PM

Sapphire: Of course, my bad, really. Keep on enjoying, as best you can, in spite of my miswordage of the name you prefer.

mindripper: Hmm, thrown together? Now, as strange is it may sound, Dust to Deceit is not a very long story as far as amount of words per chapter, (not by the estimated total length I seek to attain, which may be over a few hundred if I devote myself to it.) As such, I would not want my chapters to have less words as is, especially when compared to other great works that are loaded with words in their chapters, though having less chapters. Moe or less, what you suggested is not impossible, but it is rather improbable at the current time. I have other things to focus on with this story at the current time.

And now... A preview sneak peaker for chapter 15: A Lavender Hair Experience

“Alright, that’s it! I’m done putzing around!” he stated more seriously. “Pidgey, give the little runt a quick attack.” As swiftly as it had fallen, the bird flapped its wings, and swiftly slammed into the leafy beast before it could even see what was coming.

Gina was worried now. This was obviously a well trained Pidgey, much unlike the ones found almost everywhere you could possibly go in the open landscape. “Use Growl.” she commanded.

To this, the dinosaur eyed the bird, as it trembled to get back to its feel from the recent attack, and pulled from its voice box the scariest roar it could muster. The result was a bit too adorable to be useful, and in the end, the lizard wound up sounding like an elderly woman at a ho-down, screaming at the very top of her lungs, but of course, it was twenty times less shrill, and twenty times younger in age. Regardless of grandma’s screamin’ good time, the growl did not have the terror inflicting effect it was meant to have.

The Pidgey laughed in response. <How cute...> it shrugged in disgust, as it loomed over the lizard, its towering effect only made possible by way of its avian flight.

“Wing attack!” commanded Dame, to which the Pidgey smirked behind its small, yet sharp beak, as it raised its left wing into the air above its head.

Anyway, have fun, and don't despair, the new chapter will be up in due time. I assure you all of this fact.

Yuugis Black Magician

4th December 2005, 4:35 PM

Sapphire: Of course, my bad, really. Keep on enjoying, as best you can, in spite of my miswordage of the name you prefer.

mindripper: Hmm, thrown together? Now, as strange is it may sound, Dust to Deceit is not a very long story as far as amount of words per chapter, (not by the estimated total length I seek to attain, which may be over a few hundred if I devote myself to it.) As such, I would not want my chapters to have less words as is, especially when compared to other great works that are loaded with words in their chapters, though having less chapters. Moe or less, what you suggested is not impossible, but it is rather improbable at the current time. I have other things to focus on with this story at the current time.

And now... A preview sneak peaker for chapter 15: A Lavender Hair Experience

Anyway, have fun, and don't despair, the new chapter will be up in due time. I assure you all of this fact.

Well, so far I've read the first four chapters *Lay-z*

Really, though you've improved, less redundant! A+ for you!!

Your wrk is more or less literature, not really Fan Fiction because of its good quality. YOu should publish this after a few mroe revisions, if you can that is...

Dilasc

6th December 2005, 5:52 PM

Yuugi: I doubt that. The Japanese seem to like pictured Mangas instead of full length novellas. It is a pleasant thought though.

And now to address everyone. I’m beginning to wonder even WHY I bother with my damned watch list. Nobody wants on, for some twisted, and unfair reason. This is YOUR chance to get the heads up RIGHT AWAY, RIGHT WHEN a new chapter is posted. Your notification will be there within TEN MINUTES! If you want to get the heads up, all you have to do is ask in your next reply to DtD. As such, if nobody wants on soon, I may as well get rid of it, no? So, what the frig' are you all waiting for?

I am almost shocked to hear that I am nominationless, yet at the same time, not shocked. I know I may come across as a jerk and a bit demanding for more readers, but I honestly mean no true harm, and me and my work are very different things, so hating both with all your heart is silly.

Anyway, now that those rants are out of the way, I figure I will tell you all a bit more about Gretkan to entertain you all while I work on my latest chapter. Remember, I like reviews and CRAVE attention!

The Jovian sized terrestrial world is not perfect. In Gretkan's northern hemisphere, there is a stormy spot, located above the water. There, a swirling vortex of endless thunderstorms and wind make it a no-man's land. It is a large storm too, over half the size of the Earth, and is fortunately several thousands of miles from any major landmasses worthy of being settled upon as a continent or country. This storm is not mobile, and has remained in that same spot for tens of thousands of years, and though its size has varied very slightly, it is not a major threat to the lifeforms on the rest of this giant planet. How the storm has managed, or what causes the storm to be so prevelent is as of yet, unknown.

It should be noted that clouds on Gretkan have a more orange shade to them, due to the different chemical makeup of Gretkan's atmosphere. There is still enough of the important elements for life to exist however, so there isn't too much problems, it's just that about a bit less than one percent of the planet is a fatal storm of sheer windpower.

Dilasc

8th December 2005, 10:58 PM

Well, with no new reviews since the last chapter, I am honestly hurt. How can this be? Ah well, maybe I will get more this chapter, but the lack of readers is REALLY getting me riled up. If I am not getting readers, then I am not getting feedback, which in turn means a few things. First off, I am not fulfilling my role as an entertainer and am thus probably wasting bandwidth, and second, with little feedback, I am not getting tips to improve my story, myself, or help improve my low self esteem. Trifling, no? I implore! Don’t leave me feeling the blues!

Anyway, to warn my dear readers and many closet readers, there is sexual talk in this chapter. It is meant to be light hearted, and not offensive in any way, but just be warned, it is there, and it isn’t all ‘straight’ talk, if you get my drift.

Dust to Deceit

If it bleeds, it can be killed, or used to entertain. If it cries, it can be silenced forever, or become a symphony of nirvana. If it begs for death... well, don’t let it get what it wants, or else you wouldn’t be a cold-hearted bastid... and I... well, I’m a prick. It feels good to be rotten!
-Spookoni, A Lesson in Art of Pain and Torture

Chapter 15 - A Lavender Hair Experience

‘Okay...’ Gina said to herself, her heart pounding rapidly at the scenario set before her. ‘This is my first battle ever with Bulbasaur, and is simply my first ever battle!’ She grimaced in pain. ‘I’m not winning this, especially with Pidgey’s flying advantage.’ “Tackle!”she yelled, giving the command to start out as simply as possible.

To the command of its trainer, the Bulbasaur took off as fast as its somewhat ungainly legs could take it. Its feet splashed through a puddle of water, as it sprung up off of the ground, in order to collide violently against the flying beast.

The lavender haired male, Dame, however, smiled with a shrug. “Wing Attack.” These two simple words were spoken with great nonchalance, as he knew he had the upper hand here. It was, in his mind, almost disappointment. After all, Dame didn’t like his victories to be too easy. Regardless of the easiness, the Pidgey did as it was told with a smile. Its wings slammed forcefully into the bulbed dinosaur, and sent it back to the ground in pain. As the dinosaur looked back up, the bird stuck its tongue out at the bulbasaur in a spitefully cruel manner.

<Read ‘em and weep, little boy!> chirped the bird in a harsh, and spitefully cruel tone. <You don’t stand a chance!> The humans, of course, could not understand a word of this.

As the Bulbasaur grit its teeth, Gina spoke again. “Keep your distance.” Gina stated. “Use Razor Leaf!” To word, the green beast’s bulb opened slightly, allowing for green crescents to escape from within. Moving and spinning fast, the green crescent looked as though it could cut the head off of a man if it were angled right. Yet, there were more crescents, rapidly coming into existence, and before long, there were at least twenty headed towards the bird.

Still, the lavender haired man remained fairly calm. “Pidgey, blow it away with Gust.” His shoulders shrugged slightly as he said these words. To his words, the brown bird flapped its wings rapidly, creating a whirling vortex of air, which swept the leafy blades into its swirling fury. With the wind going against them, the leaves blew in the other direction, but no longer were they spinning like a shuriken, or shaped like the crescent moon. Now, they were simply leaves with nothing to do, other than to slowly descend to the ground in a slow float. “Quick Attack!” the command went out as swiftly as the wind kicked up.

The Bulbasaur was not expecting sch swift shifts in attacks, and was caught off guard. In a swift motion, the bulbed creature was slammed by the fierce underbelly of its opponent. <You suck coconuts.> Stated the bird as it perched upon the floor in a haughty sense of victory. With a lift of its left talon, it proceeded to flip off the teal dinosaur for the second time.

“Is that Pidgey flipping the bird?” asked Jimmy.

Dame shrugged, as he moved a small strand of his lavender hair. “Looks like it, ursaring.” He chuckled lightly.

“Ursaring?” asked Jimmy, confused more than anything else. “I do hope that wasn’t an insult, because if it was, that was the lamest I’ve ever heard.” After all, he had been called murderer, scumbag, schmuck, ****tard, and ******* child. While all of them were truths instead of just teasing, they hurt a hell of a lot more than being made fun of for the piercings on his face.

“My Pidgey is rough and tough, and has the attitude to back it up!” He grinned at the pokemon, as he completely ignored everything that Jimmy even said. “Isn’t that right, girl?” All he got was a shrugging set of wings in response. “Hit it while its down with Gust.” To that, a windy uprising from a set of flapping wings, just like before, sent a violent vortex of wind towards the downed grass beast. Though not tall, it certainly was wide.

Gina, nor her Bulbasaur, were ready to throw in the towel yet. “Jump it with Vine Whip!” she yelled. To this, the leafy creature was hurled into the air, all thanks to a set of vines that sprouted from the same place the crescent leaves were unleashed. Dodging the wind, Gina continued, noticing how close the bird and the dino truly were. “Tackle it.” She commanded.

The Bulbasaur, suspended in the air by way of vine, began to wobble, yet it smiled slightly as it looked at the Pidgey. <So... little boy, am I?> he asked, slyly as the green beast flung itself at the bird as swiftly as it could. The results were not quite as Gina expected, but with a thick shoulder strike from the plant growing quadruped to the bird’s underbelly, things suddenly seemed a bit more hopeful. With the small bird crashing to the ground, the green lizard laughed. <Ha! I flipped the bird!> The dinosaur grinned. <Who’s a little boy now, huh? Huh?> It asked, its tone mocking as it stood over what appeared to be the unconscious body of a fallen bird.

To this, the lavender haired male sighed with disdain. “Alright, that’s it! I’m done putzing around!” he stated more seriously. “Pidgey, give the little runt a quick attack.” As swiftly as it had fallen, the bird flapped its wings, and swiftly slammed into the leafy beast before it could even see what was coming.

Gina was worried now. This was obviously a well trained Pidgey, much unlike the ones found almost everywhere you could possibly go in the open landscape. “Use Growl.” she commanded.

To this, the dinosaur eyed the bird, as it trembled to get back to its feel from the recent attack, and pulled from its voice box the scariest roar it could muster. The result was a bit too adorable to be useful, and in the end, the lizard wound up sounding like an elderly woman at a ho-down, screaming at the very top of her lungs, but of course, it was twenty times less shrill, and twenty times younger in age. Regardless of grandma’s screamin’ good time, the growl did not have the terror inflicting effect it was meant to have.

The Pidgey laughed in response. <How cute...> it shrugged in disgust, as it loomed over the lizard, its towering effect only made possible by way of its avian flight.

“Wing attack!” commanded Dame, to which the Pidgey smirked behind its small, yet sharp beak, as it raised its left wing into the air above its head.

“Dodge it!” yelled Gina, causing the Bulbasaur to jump just as the wing chopped downwards to strike. This looked good for her now. Bulbasaur was in a position to strike with a very powerful attack. The question was, what attack would leave its mark and turn the tide of battle in her favor. What single attack could do such a wonderful thing as to yield the green haired girl the victory she needed so greatly? The answer was, quite simply, nothing at all. There was no technique that a Bulbasaur could possibly have at this stage of its life, especially without battle earned experiences to help it tap deep into its greatest potential to unlock powerful techniques beyond the comprehension of the average Joseph or Josephine. Bred
In spite of all of this, Gina was not going to pass up this opportunity to attack. “Tackle!” she yelled. To which the Bulbasaur lunged at its foe, head first, and struck the bird in its back, taking them both to the ground. It was here that Gina had an idea. “Tie it up with Vine Whip!” she commanded with a sly undertone to her words.

The ring faced Jimmy did not like the looks of this. “What are you planning?” he asked with suspicion.

“Don’t worry.” she stated to Jimmy. “You’ll be unharmed, Jimmy.” She didn’t even turn to face him. It was as though he was just not important at that point in time.

“I’m not talking about me, I...” he didn’t get to finish his statement, for as the Bulbasaur wrapped its vines around the flying sass-squawker, Gina interrupted.

“Chuck it into the water!” she yelled, “Make sure NOT to let it up for fresh air.”

Jimmy was shocked. “Gina... how could you even think such a thing?” Had the girl lost her mind? Was se spiraling down the same path that he himself had been on for years? No! It couldn’t, and wouldn’t be possible, not without abusiveness from a parental source.

“I realized something, just last night.” Gina stated seriously, eyeing her Bulbasaur with an almost evil grin. “I figured out that I need to not let anyone push me around at all.” she yelled with determination. She was obviously angry. “I’m tired of licking boots and putting up with abuse.” She eyed her Bulbasaur, who had yet to put the battered bird into the stinky river. “What are you waiting for, sink it!” she demanded. To this, the reptilian beast hesitantly complied. After all, it was not going to betray its trainer, but at the same time, it did not want to commit murder.

“What are you think?” asked Dame, on the verge of panic. “Pidgey!” he yelled, calling out to his loyal winged beast. He looked as though he were about to cry. “No...” he stated, in terror. “Why...” he said, too horrified to make the word sound like a question. “How could you?”

“I have to agree, Gina.” Jimmy added with a nod. “What possessed you to even think such a despicable thought?” he asked.

Gina grinned, but her eyes widened. “I... I don’t... have any I idea.” she sounded as though she had been far, far away, perhaps as far as Mars. One thing was for certain though, “It... I had no idea.”

The lavender haired male, meanwhile was crying. His eyes however, produced no tears. “Well now...” he grinned, “I think I’ll end this charade.” he smiled. “Pidgey, Mirror Move!” he yelled.

From beneath the murky green waters, it could not be seen too well what was happening, but before long, two vines extended from the waters and lashed at the grassy Pokemon, grappling it in a tight hold around its waist. To this, the grassy beast groaned in pain as it tried to slip itself out of the painful grip. “Now, toss it to the water, and stir up a storm.” At that, the vines pulled the beast into the murky water where it was released from the vines of the winged mimic.

With the bulbasaur in the water, and its vine whip losing it grip upon its captor, the Pidgey sprung out of the waters as swiftly as it had gone in. A grin covered its face as it began to flap its wings.

“You... you faker!” yelled Gina with disgust. “You put the life of your own Pokemon at risk just to play a trick?” She was clearly repulsed by this freakish pretty boy, who had himself admitted to be ugly.

“Risk?” Dame asked slyly. “No, I was never in any real danger at all.” he explained coyly. “I played with you, pretty girl, and want to play with you some more...” he grinned, “preferably naked, with Gumbo no longer alive. He should be dead like the dog he is.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened at that. Even though it was just a simple adjective with only one syllable of length, the words ricocheted throughout his skull like a spiked rubber ball that would not adhere to inertia or gravity, for its only law was chaos. “Dead...” he blurted in a whisper. “Yes, I should.” he said louder, his eyes were wide, and lacking any true emotion. He was paralyzed with fear and memories. “Dead...” he repeated. “Dead, dead, dead.” his repetition of the word did not cease. His hands trembled as he gripped them into a fist.

All the while, the bulbasaur was helpless within the sludge water as it thrashed about, its paws desperately trying to keep it above the surface while the pidgey above it flapped its wings at the speed of a humming bird to stir up a very nasty whirlpool and set of waves. <Well, little boy...> the pidgey cooed in her sassy tone, <looks as though it stinks to be you, because you’re all washed up! In your face, retard!> At that, another wave, powered by the mighty flapping of avian wings crashed upon the weakening creature.

“Bulbasaur!” yelled Gina, scared for her life. “Get out of the water!” she yelled. It was of no use though, for after much splashing about, the sassy bird received a new order.

“Wait!” shouted Gina, her voice echoing about the sewers as she yelled. “I give up!” she yelled. “I give up!”

Dame shrugged. “Very well.” It was almost disappointing to end a victory so prematurely, but a victory was still a victory, either way. “Pidgey, stop!” he commanded, causing the bird to come to a sudden halt, its wings only a nose hair away from striking its target. “As much as I like a good finisher, I will respect the lady’s request.” he grinned, winking at Gina.

“Don’t patronize me!” she yelled, taking a deep breath. “I can’t stand even looking at you! You’re so annoying!” She was running out of intelligent words to vent her anger with. She was, after all, only eleven. “Most importantly, stop trying to get under my skin!”

Dame laughed, “No, I don’t find skin removing too sexy, but the cloth upon the skin is a different story.” he laughed. “Pidgey, return!” he stated quickly, recalling the sassy pigeon back to its red and white container. Dame’s eyes almost looked pleading, but with a dab of irony his tongue licking against his lips as his eyes groped the green haired girl screamed lecherous pervert. “I don’t ask for much, I only ask the way to Hallsburg. I am assuming you’ve been through there, and I am bit lost, mucking around for the correct place to exit.”

Gina sighed, holding a Pokeball in her hand. With a click of a button, the drenched and battered Bulbasaur of hers was warped back into the oblivion that people could never venture into “I’m expected to help you...” she began, her tone oddly calm, “when I’d sooner toss you into the sludgy river below?”

Dame grinned, “You’re as lost as I am.” he stated with a relaxed grin. “You would rather hear me tell you the safest way to reach the suburbs, and find the gym, no doubt.”

Gina was not taken aback at all. In fact, she was so bored with Dame, that she was looping her long, green hair through her finger as she spoke. “How did you know?”

The lavender haired male was thrilled to be asked a question. Finally, a chance to inflate his nonexistent ego was presented to him on a platter of even the most mundane of questions. The insignificance hardly mattered. Dame was going to leap at this opportunity like a starving pack of dogs, dying for just one singular morsel of meat juice that could be half the size of a silver dollar. “Well, with my keen intellect, I figured that you were a trainer, based on your sense of bravery to travel through the sewers than to waltz through crowds of angry city people.” he hardly cared how pompous his voice sounded, nor did he care to admit his love for his own masculine voice, which clashed badly against his prettiness and pink hair. “ As well, if you have a Bulbasaur, and if it is your first Pokemon, then truly, you have come from Mr. Brenetmos.”

Gina sighed. “Yea, I suppose I did!” she sighed. “If you got that Corvolden as your first, then I guess you got it from Iptan Beatalgeust.” As if his name wasn’t peculiar enough, Iptan Beatelgeust, who much of Kertonmel referred to as ‘the North Star of Kertonmel,’ was a Pokemon researcher, but unlike Brenetmos, his focus was practically that of Pokemon tried and true, while Brenetmos was truly just a man of science. More specifically, a man of science with Pokemon to offer to people, wishing to prove their immunity to the death waiting around every corner, and upon every breadth of the vastness of time, space, and the lack of eternity.

In a nod to Gina’s question, the lavender haired one replied. “Yes I am. Born and raised in Lipi.” His grin did not fade. “So, will I be able to reach my younger cousin Galla, or will I need to screw the answer out of you?” In a way, his words were literal, as far as a dreamer’s words could be, that is.

Gina nodded, with her mouth wide, before closing it to respond spitefully. “She’s a dirty... rotten... *****!” she spat. “She was always making fun of me because of my bisexuality!” she yelled, her fists clenched in anger. How she would one day wish to smash that girl’s head in. Especially for what she said about how Sara Molson deserved to die for being a ****ty dyke. Neither were true.

“Ah, you know my homophobic cousin, I take it.” he smiled, a sigh of contentment escaped his lips. “Personally, I am thrilled by your tendencies for your own gender.” He licked his lips, “It turns me the opposite of off.”

Jimmy too felt the urge to comment on the matter. “You’re a bisexual?” he asked, not even waiting for the girl to finish nodding her reply. “Cool!” he blurted out. “So, what’s it like to taste both the sausage and its favorite hole?”

“Jimmy!” yelled Gina in embarrassment. “Of all people, you are in no position to patronize me for my sexuality. Besides, I have no idea.”

Jimmy nodded. “Right, I apologize.” He sighed, as his mind wandered.

“She is four years younger than me, and treats me like crap.” he stated pausing to grin. “Yes, that would make me fifteen years old.” he laughed at the afterthought, almost a giggle of sorts. “It’s almost enticing, hmm, hmm?”

“No it’s not.” Gina replied honestly. “Now both of you, be quiet!” she snapped harshly, and got her wish for about half a minute of uneasiness. With a sigh of relaxed relief, the males present felt better.

Dame spoke up, breaking the dreadful silence. “Do ya think you can guide me to the manhole closest to Hallsburg?”

Gina nodded, and with a share of explanations, and directions, paths split up, much to Gina’s relief, and Dame’s dismay. “I’ll see ya, Dame!” the green haired child stated with false enthusiasm, as she mumbled under her breath a few words unheard.

“I know you will.” Dame grinned, before snapping his fingers loudly. “Oh yea! I almost forgot! I promised you a little gift.”

“I lost, stupid!” Gina hissed.

“I said I’d give you a gift if you gave me a good fight, you never needed to win.” he smirked, as he held out a metal sphere in his hand. By deduction from its red and white color, it was obviously a Pokeball. “I’d say we had a fun fight, sexy, even if I was distracted by your small assets.”

Gina’s response was a mix between a scowl and a sigh, which sounded pretty quirky, in the end. “Would you shut the fu...” she paused midway through her anger. “Small?” she asked, in a small voice. It hurt, to say the least. After all, nobody ever wanted to be thought of as inferior, no matter what way the supposed deficiency presented itself. “Small?” she asked again, her voice louder at this asking.

Dame giggled. “Yes. Don’t feel offended though.” he grinned. “I like small girls. You are short, small chested, and have a small yet sexy *** as well.”

Gina grumbled as she accepted the gift Pokeball with a rude snatch. “Well... uh, thanks, I guess. But you better stop trying to make me feel miserable!”

Dame tilted his head before he replied with a false pout. “Miserable?” he laughed, “No, all I want is for you to be so happy you could scream! Preferably, with my name amongst the jumbled amounts of words. Granted, I wouldn’t force you, because that’s just mean... and it’s illegal and less fun that way.”

“Can we go now?” Jimmy asked impatiently. It was perhaps, rightfully so. After all, he had to listen to this jerk make sexual advances on his redemptive objective, and he was not going to let any harm come to her, whether it were physical, emotional, or anything else to be.

“Fine.” sighed the lavender haired one with disdain. He didn’t want to see the sexy rear end leave his vision. Still, he had little choice in the matter. “Gina, if it makes you feel any better, I will soil up in Galla’s favorite shoes.”

Gina’s eyes went bright at this prospect. “I think there’s some good in you yet, Dame.” she smiled at this as well. “Well, good bye and good radiance.” she said, with a wave of her hand, and a dash away from Dame, as fast as she possibly could.

“Riddance!” Jimmy hissed under his breath. “I think the word you mean is riddance.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Gina gave Jimmy the silent treatment for a few seconds, until she abruptly spoke up again to change the subject. “So, where is this death you noticed before?”

Jimmy sniffed at the air. “Hmm, it’s gone now.” he shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a bit high-strung. Who knows?” He sighed at the thought. “Can we just move on?” he asked, a hint of fear in his words.

“Sure, let’s go.” smiled the green haired small girl, as they continued their trek through the murk of the sewers.

As this odd couple trekked about, in a far and secluded section of the sewers, a strange, thin shape watched. It’s face, which appeared to be its entire being, was a dark grey, with a hint of green, a gangrene. Disgusting, and with smoke coming out of the top of its head, which looked like the smokestacks of a factory, and seemed to spew just as much carbon as well. Other than the sickly grey and green that covered its face and the smokestacks on its head, there was not much else to describe this creature, except of course, for the fact that it had an aura that practically instilled fear in any who were to look at it.

This was, after all, no ordinary creature. This was a demon, and one of Kertonmel’s legends. This mask was Poxoni, and how he loved the stinkpot of humanity, and eating the sludge out of the sewers. It was almost as tasty as living souls. Fresh, delectable, bright souls. <Ah...> the mask rumbled in its language. <How fun it is to instill terror into the common passerby. It is a shame that devouring them for a blood-soul shower would give away my favorite hiding place.> With that, the beasts long tongue extended from its mouth, as it took in a small amount of contaminated liquid, and savored its exotic flavor. This was, for the demon, anyway, truly a rotten paradise.

Yuugis Black Magician

8th December 2005, 11:07 PM

Don't be distraunt, I'd have gotten to reading mroe, but dagit, I've been blasted with a lot of work lately, so, blah...screw it, I'm just to lazy. I'll go try and read six now.

~YBM

blackemerald

9th December 2005, 9:02 PM

Sorry I've been so late reviewing this, issues came up.

Anyways, very well written. You gave us a good understanding of the charaters. Am I correct in saying that Gina's attempt of pokemon murder was brought on from hanging around with Jimmy and Paul? Not many things to complain about in this chapter and no spelling mistakes.

The Bulbasaur was not expecting sch swift shifts in attacks, and was caught off guard. In a swift motion, the bulbed creature was slammed by the fierce underbelly of its opponent. <You suck coconuts.> Stated the bird as it perched upon the floor in a haughty sense of victory. With a lift of its left talon, it proceeded to flip off the teal dinosaur for the second time.

So funny, a bird flipping a bird. It just annoys me when the pokemon's style is the same as the trainers.

“Dead...” he blurted in a whisper. “Yes, I should.” he said louder, his eyes were wide, and lacking any true emotion. He was paralyzed with fear and memories. “Dead...” he repeated. “Dead, dead, dead.” his repetition of the word did not cease. His hands trembled as he gripped them into a fist.

Ah, I see Jimmy's old self is returning. For some odd reason, he always reminded me of the Jimmy in south park.

Gina nodded, with her mouth wide, before closing it to respond spitefully. “She’s a dirty... rotten... *****!” she spat. “She was always making fun of me because of my bisexuality!”

LOLOLOL Gina's a bisexual. What other weird twists will come?

In all, very enjoyable. Lots of twists with insane charaters=wonderful story.
I ask only two thing of you. One, put me on that list. Two, return Jimmy to his normal/crazy self. I just love those bits.

Dilasc

9th December 2005, 9:12 PM

blackemerald: Glad to know you're enjoying. Welcome to the list.

It just annoys me when the pokemon's style is the same as the trainers.

Dame isn't really a sass talker, he's more of the kind to creep one out with an uncaring or in your face attitude at the same time, rather than be an in your face hothead like Pidgey.

Who's Paul? There's not been any Paul yet, unless you mean Phil.

Jimmyand insanity... eh, you'll just have to see. Maybe in some flashbacks we'll see his wild side return full blast, but in doing so, he's either a love or hate character, so I have to weigh the risks.

Dilasc

12th December 2005, 6:11 AM

SQueeeeeeeeeeeeeeaag! Readers, readers, readers, READERS! I am so happy! I am so very, very happy.

Dust to Deceit now has its own website. I am so thrilled, that for maybe two days at most, I will stop being so concerned about my reader count.

Anyway, here's the story. I recieved an email at Fanfiction.net from none other than TopazSoarhire. Maybe you've heard of her and Wings of a Council, maybe you haven't. Regardless, she decided to start a new webgroup for Pokemon fics, and for her new project to help set writers up with websites, I was her first choice!

Yes, I was confused as to why at first, but I don't look no gift horsey in the mouth. I accepted. Not only do I now have a webpage I am slowly struggling to build, I also have some sweet pictures, courtesy of her art skills.

LOOK! (http://photobucket.com/albums/v330/Usac/?action=view&current=TheStormofSouls.jpg) It's the viral storm of souls, and that's Phil facing away, if the Totodile isn't a big enough hint for ya. All credit, of course, goes to Topaz for this.

I am so happy. Don't fret though. Dust to Deceit will still be here. So you can still hear the crazy tales of the Ex-psycho Jimmy, the bisexual Gina, unlovable Phillip, and the inquisitive Verick. I assure you all, this state of happiness will have me pumping chapters out my anus at a much faster pace. And now that my rant is over, I must do the frikkin' happy dance. Ciao. Don't forget, I live for critisism.

Gina nodded, with her mouth wide, before closing it to respond spitefully. “She’s a dirty... rotten... *****!” she spat. “She was always making fun of me because of my bisexuality!” she yelled, her fists clenched in anger. How she would one day wish to smash that girl’s head in. Especially for what she said about how Sara Molson deserved to die for being a ****ty dyke. Neither were true.

“Ah, you know my homophobic cousin, I take it.” he smiled, a sigh of contentment escaped his lips. “Personally, I am thrilled by your tendencies for your own gender.” He licked his lips, “It turns me the opposite of off.”

Jimmy too felt the urge to comment on the matter. “You’re a bisexual?” he asked, not even waiting for the girl to finish nodding her reply. “Cool!” he blurted out. “So, what’s it like to taste both the sausage and its favorite hole?”

“Jimmy!” yelled Gina in embarrassment. “Of all people, you are in no position to patronize me for my sexuality. Besides, I have no idea.”

Jimmy nodded. “Right, I apologize.” He sighed, as his mind wandered.

“She is four years younger than me, and treats me like crap.” he stated pausing to grin. “Yes, that would make me fifteen years old.” he laughed at the afterthought, almost a giggle of sorts. “It’s almost enticing, hmm, hmm?”

“No it’s not.” Gina replied honestly. “Now both of you, be quiet!” she snapped harshly, and got her wish for about half a minute of uneasiness. With a sigh of relaxed relief, the males present felt better.

PWNAGE. ROFLMAO.

Dear, I have finished reading.

Whew. I must say, It is quite a lot to take in. I love Jimmy. x3 No matter what you say. Jimmy is MINE. And Phil. No, actually, Phil can have Gina. I have Jimmy though.

xDDDDDDDDD I will write more when I'm not so OVERWHELMED BY THE AMOUNT OF WHAT I HAVE READ. Seriously. I noticed that you've gotten better each chapter. YOUR FIC IS LIKE A MOUNTAIN! It starts slow and eventually gets better. That is good. No one likes a plateau or a plain or a peak that stretches forevar! ROFL.

I'm really excited for you on that website thing! Congrats! Omg, that is really cool though, seriously. The picture is kinda small though. O.O *strains to see it*

Dont pump the chaps out the anus too fast, rofl. THE SH*IT WILL HIT THE FAN ROFL.

Congrats dear.

*hugs*

*THUMBS UP*

GOOD JOB!

Negrek

13th December 2005, 12:38 AM

So, Dilasc. Fancy a review?

Given that this story is very, very long already, I'm obviously not going to be going too far in depth with functional mistakes.

Overall, your bane is proofreading. There are tons and tons of nettling small mistakes lurking throughout the prose, problems with missing words, incorrect words, incorrect punctuation and the like, and all could very easily be eliminated with careful proofreading. This would make it a lot more pleasant to read. Really, if this is a repost/revision, the least you could do would be read it over carefully in order to catch all of those stupid mistakes. Specifically, missing question marks. I can't tell you how many of those there are in here. Again, proofreading. You also have a tendency to allow commas to proliferate unnecessarily.

And for the love of the deity(s or lack thereof) of your choice, spellcheck. Again, this is largely supposed to be a repost/revision, so the least you could do would be take two and a half minutes to spellcheck your work. I'm not terribly amused by the prevelence of words like "theie" in your work; honest to goodness. If you don't have a spellchecker on your computer, then you can easily download one from the internet or just use something like FF.net's OpenOffice.

In addition, make sure you know what words mean. You have serious problems with homophones (if I see one more instance of "ringing" somebody's neck, I'm going to wring yours and allow you to evaluate which is more painful) and also with plain off-the-wall substitutions. I found the line about Phil planning to turn his totodile into goulashes particularly hilarious, but not for the reason that you had planned, I think.

Act mentioned that you apparently can't punctuate dialogue correctly, but the problem persists even in the very latest chapters. When someone's speaking and the speech is followed up by a tag, you do not end it in a period. You end it in a comma. Examples?

“Use Growl,” she commanded.

“Don’t worry,” she stated to Jimmy.

“I realized something, just last night.” Gina stated seriously, eyeing her Bulbasaur with an almost evil grin.
I don't believe I've ever see you do dialogue in this format correctly, so I guess it's a question of you not knowing as opposed to you having a tendency to forget. It's a simple thing to fix.

And write out your numbers one through ten. Thus, three, not 3.

One other thing before I move on to other topics; your prose isn't that bad, but it is often confused. It often seems like you forgot what you were typing halfway through a sentence and then started up again in a totally different place. This means that you often have repeated words or phrases and odd wordings, as well as an unusual concentration of double negatives. Often, this makes things rocky and unpleasant. As if I haven't said it enough, proofread. There's no way that you could read through a lot of your paragraphs aloud and possibly not figure out that some of it just plain sounds wrong.

Next, a section of my reviews that is rarely seen because for most people it doesn't apply. In this 'fic, however, one of the things that irritated me most was the prevalence of factual and logical errors in the text. There are many places where the plot appears very contrived as you, knowingly or unknowingly, throw common sense out of the window and put in something totally illogical just in the interest of moving the plot onwards. There were a fair number in the interludes especially, but I'm not really counting them in the review, so I won't go into those. Canon is twisted, people miraculously recover from injuries, and inaccuracies abound. For some examples:

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil nodded in understanding. It was, after all, not in Phil’s best interest to poke fun at those less fortunate than himself. “That was hardly funny, Phillip.”

“Uh, Mr. Brenetmos,” began Gina in confusion, “Would he really be, uh,” she paused, a word like sane or stable would just sound wrong, “Would he be, uh, ‘ok’ enough to go out on his own?”

“He isn’t.” the man replied calmly, yet in the least bit happy. “His mother suggested he have himself one in order to help him out. He isn’t going to be adventuring at all.”
Okay, really. ADD is a disease normally characterized by hyperactivity and an inability to concentrate, a stark contrast to the boy that you have here, who appears simply apathetic and introverted. And seriously, he's not "all right" to go out on a journey by himself? ADD isn't some sort of crushing mental illness where a person can't care for themselves or be on their own. Most people who have it lead perfectly normal lives, and in many cases don't even know that they have it. It's also a disease that can be controlled with medication and that doesn't restrict most normal functions anyway. Not only are your symptoms completely off base, but seriously, it's not like people who have ADD have to be constantly babysat because they might be a danger to themselves or unstable or something. If you're going to write about a person with a disease or disorder, at least know something about it. Most people who have ADD are in constant motion or bouncing off walls, not staring around with their eyes glazed.

On the other hand, it DID value and cherish its life, apparently amongst the wilds as it had been oh so recently. It knew the ay home. It was not far to the river cavern, and the forest was simple to navigate.
Okay, now. They're in the forest where Phil's dear sister was killed not three days ago, no? And obviously, the police have yet to find her killer, as even the professor has the rudimentary forensic knowledge to tell that she was not slain by the totodile clan. There would therefore be an ongoing police investigation, and the forest, that section of it at the very least, would most likely be off-limits both for reasons of investigation (because there should have been some sort of detective beating Phil off with a stick in order to keep him away from that bloody rope; he's mucking the crimescene up like nobody's business) and for safety reasons. I mean, seriously, they've got an unknown killer running around in the woods, and even if they are not still working in the area there should at least be something going on where, I don't know, Phil's mother is advising him not to go through the woods in order to get to the next town because there's a psycho lurking in the woods that killed his sister. And even suspending disbelief to the point where we can allow Phil to get to that spot unchallenged, there's the fact that if Jimmy really were lurking around there he'd already have been apprehended by the police and carted off unless they were blind or just plain stupid.

I'll be getting to Jimmy and the rest of the characters later, but for now I'll just say this: Insane. People. Do. Not. Act. Like. That.

The creature’s claws wildly swiped at the rope on her hands, attempting to cut it off in as many fell swipes as its little claws could. It was to no avail. All it did was wear down its nails as they reddened in soreness as all they did were an extremely slow deterioration, not too mention a few inaccurate swipes causing bruises to the poor lass in question.
So a pok&#233;mon able to slice through the thick hide of, say, a tauros with the scratch attack that it knows from birth, and yet it isn't able to even hack through some ordinary rope? Riiiight. Sure, it might take a little bit, but with as many swipes as you imply the gator's throwing here, I should expect it to make some impression. And nails neither turn red nor get sore, btw. And later you even have totodile slice up some magikarp, a fish with incredibly tough scales, as canon tells us. Again, he's defeated by rope?

“I believe you have a move called Vine Whip.” she recalled, hoping her assumption was indeed correct.
Sorry, dear. Bulbasaur doesn't learn vine whip until level ten, so unless you've been training your starter in secret, it doesn't know that move. Likewise, don't even think about attempting a razor leaf in your very first battle. Honestly.

As enough crocodiles to send an ivory hunter into seizures made themselves known, the one whom had the human seemed to speak to its reptilian brethren.

Uh, dude, ivory comes from elephants. Yeah.

Phil and Gina are hungry only a mere couple of hours after leaving home. Nevertheless, they fail to have breakfast or lunch, or indeed complain of hunger, despite the fact that they walk a great distance the next day without sustenance. What gives?

I don't care how busy people are or how great the hustle and bustle is. If there is a ranting guy with a bloodied, pierced face suspended a considerable distance above the pavement by a bulbasaur's vines, people are going to notice. The masses are not that oblivious. And they're probably going to attract police attention as well, as most people can't just waltz through town with a person who's obviously recently suffered physical abuse, never mind the fact that he's being forcibly restrained.

Infrared is not in the visible spectrum. Therefore, if that was the kind of light emitted by pok&#233;balls, nobody would be able to see it. Likewise with ultraviolet.

So koffing's unleashing a smog that's sending people stampeding in disgust and panic. Again, where's the law enforcement? I don't expect them to show up there immediately, but I should think that they'd catch up to the group before they reached the center, at any rate, or appear at the center asking about the koffing that had caused so much trouble and was seen to enter here.

And of course, everybody suddenly forgets about Jimmy as soon as they enter the center and the nurse briefly notices him. Yeah, that's going to happen. And I think, somehow, that the nurse would be more concerned with Jimmy than she would be with the kids. I mean, they've got him tied up and he's clearly been beaten. Some serious questioning is in order.

Perhaps about a day, and he was parched.
If he hadn't had any water at all for a whole day after all that walking he'd be considerably more than parched. Maybe hallucinating. Dunno, I'll have to look that one up briefly.

And, then, of course, the nurse finally notices that she's got an insane guy running around her center. Perceptive lady.

That spinarak's in pretty good shape, considering that it hasn't been healed since Phil captured it. Unless, of course, he dropped it off at the center to be healed. Oh, but no, he didn't. He came in, briefly saw the nurse, tried to watch TV, got a drink, and then lounged in the bathroom for hours. No time for a checkup there.

So, right in the middle of the confrontation scene in the kitchen, there's this long monologue with Phil and the spinarak, followed by Gina getting all horrified. And Jimmy and his pies are where during all of this?

The moon was a place where life never was, so why bother to care about it. After all, is not that giant rocky sphere in the sky good for nothing? All it does is give the planet its rotational axis, therefore enabling seasonal changes and therefore making it possible for life as it was now…
So the moon's what makes the Earth go 'round, eh? That explains why Mars rotates on its axis even though it doesn't have any moons. Oh, wait, now...

Also, seriously, Nurse Joy would so totally not forget about the fact that there's an insane guy running around her precious pok&#233;mon center. OOC, my friend.

Fifteen minutes, heck practically an hour had gone by, yet the pink haired nurse had been on the phone for hours on end, and all she had been doing was talking with the lady on the other end, although one had to wonder how so many words can be spoken in an hour, yet not even remember to mention the fact that a madman was running loose in a place for injured animals!
Unless the confrontation in the kitchen has been going on for hours, Nurse Joy hasn't been on the phone for that long. After all, we know that she wasn't just before the whole kitchen thing started.

It was apparent in my brother’s blood type however that he was not. Dad was B, mom was O type, but Jimmy was A type blood.
So the two Jimmys look and sound virtually identical, yet they have different parents and different blood types. *genetics go 'splodey*

I did all I could to help my brother, even when mother threatened to disown me!
Seriously, now, if he had really done everything that he could have, he would have succeeded. Either Jimmy's not very bright or very honest. He could have run away with his brother in tow, easier to do in the pok&#233;mon world where kids head off to exotic places all the time anyway, he could have, you know, informed the police about his mother. After all, if the abuse was really that bad then it would no doubt be easy to prove. Heck, he could have even gotten in touch with his dad and gotten his help. Seriously, if he felt he had nothing to lose, then if he had done everything in his power he would have succeeded. Not buying the sob story.

And they'd send people out on redemption quest if they committed crimes under "a will not their own" why? In most cases, you're talking them getting off by pleading insanity. And they're just going to let insane people run around the countryside to "redeem" themselves and prove that they're no longer insane? Why would the state/country/other form of government risk that? They're basically sending convicted criminals out into the world in order to prove that they're not actually criminals. Where's the logic in that? If they actually are insane, then they're going to just go back to whatever they were doing, most likely. The only way that this could possibly work is if they sent some sort of expert mediator out with them to monitor their actions and ensure that they don't get out of hand. Instead, they send a little girl, despite the fact that "psycho" Jimmy seemed to show an affinity for killing people of that description. Seriously, wtf? Leaving Jimmy in his brother's care doesn't make sense, but sticking him with Gina does, somehow?

So the officer's all "I need to get a judge in order to charge your brother" but as soon as Gina speaks up, she's suddenly willing to just let him up and leave with a preteen without anybody's say so? Paging the justice system.

“There are over twenty gyms in Kertonmel, if I’m not mistaken. In order to make it to the Kertonmel Pokemon League, you need sixteen badges.”
Any particular reason why you need twice as many badges and there are nearly three times as many gyms?

Jimmy almost went into his family trademarked laugh, but he was used to keeping it quiet at night after almost two years of sleep deprivation. In all that time, perhaps the most he had gotten was fifty hours of sleep, and it was painful to live with the lack.
If you had gotten only fifty hours of sleep over the space of two years, you wouldn't have trouble keeping your insomnia quiet. Mostly because you'd be dead.

I think that one of the weakest areas of this story, however, is its characters. If anything, they feel remarkably like anti-Sues: as though you were so desperate not to make them Sues that you went way overboard with flaws in order to try to make them more realistic. If that was the intention, however, you went too far the wrong way. Your characters are simply not realistic in that they're all so perfectly messed up. Seriously, is any member of the cast that we've met so far normal? Each seems to have as many problems as you can heap upon them, and at least one in particular. Not only that, but every last one of your main journeying characters--barring Derrick or Verrick or whatever, whom we know little about--has some kind of self-esteem issue and is constantly moaning about their lot in life. This was particularly bad with Phil, but both Gina and, obviously, Jimmy, have begun to mirror him as well. Seriously, wangst much?

Phil is one of the most irritating characters that I've ever encountered, partially, I think, by intent, and partially by execution. The way that other people react to him often seems off--they seem to constantly lecture him on how he needs to change his ways and be less violent, etc. Brentenemos especially. In truth, however, his serious issue is that he's got an ego the size of Wyoming. Seriously, everything is always about him. His grief for his sister seems incredibly trivial--in fact, for all that he makes a show of going out just so that he can fulfill her dreams, he hardly thinks of it at all, and even when he does it's usually in conjunction with himself, as he bemoans his own falliability and frailty compared to her, trying to build himself up in a perverse sort of fashion. Not only that, but he has a serious side of teenage wangst to go along with it. Oh noes I am not worhthy!11! mixed with "Notice me, I'm the greatest" does not a believable nor likeable character make. If you wanted to make Phil irritating as heck, you've certainly succeeded--perhaps altogether too well.

Jimmy, meanwhile, is still my least favorite character. As I think I mentioned earlier, insane people do not act like that. Having an abusive mother does not (often) lead to insanity. He's a terribly poorly done character, equal parts ridiculous and annoying beyond measure. And for the love of common sense, a character who's spent years "insane", murdering and torturing people is not suddenly going to be brought back to the light by a nice dose of twoo bwuvverly wuv. What on earth makes everybody (barring Phil, of course) forgive him that fast? I don't care how sympathetic Gina is to his situation. He killed her best friend. She's never going to forget it that fast. Phil's dad, wtf? Ask any parent who's had their child murdered if they think that the man that committed the crime is blameless just because he had an abusive mother and I'm sure they'll say no. People are not that forgiving. I could see one person, perhaps, with a particularly caring and generous nature (which describes none of the characters, btw), forgiving him, but every person he's met, including those very close to Sara and who know him only by that one act that he's committed, wtf no. Not happening. And then he has to go into a horrible wangst fest. Joy.

Those are probably the worst two, but I dislike the characters in general. I think that they're entirely too inorganic and not in the least bit realistic. By adding so many flaws to them, you're distancing them from the reader rather than bringing them closer. You're making them more difficult to relate to, rather than easier. In the end, I can find not a one that I sympathize with or even like all that well.

Your plot--could go either way. Up until now, meh, standard, for the most part. We'll see what happens when the occult gets into it.

Again, characterization, proofreading, and logical assessment of your 'fics contents are your biggest problems. In the end, I think that I liked most of the interludes more than the actual 'fic itself.

Dilasc

16th December 2005, 12:03 AM

Saber: Yee! Oy Vegan! I like to think it’s a bit too early to finalize on shipping, but do as you wish. Who knows, there may yet be new surprises. Everyone wants to get their hands on Jimmy, strangely enough.

Negrek: I gave you ample warning that you probably would not like it. Your response hardly surprises me, truth be told. Still, I will look for those errors, and try to make the difference between the three characters more noticable.

Still, a lot of what you're suggesting though would shatter this story to pieces. I know in some twisted way, you would probably like to see this story as well as me fade into oblivion, but many of what you're suggesting cannot happen. A few things can be changed, I suppose.

Sorry, dear. Bulbasaur doesn't learn vine whip until level ten, so unless you've been training your starter in secret, it doesn't know that move. Likewise, don't even think about attempting a razor leaf in your very first battle. Honestly.

I suppose tacklefests turn you on. What kind of exciting battles we can have with only two moves! It's practically EPIC and will certainly make for a nice and intense battle to leave readers on the edge of their seats!

As for problems. Yes, I find tons of them, but by far, I'd be making so many changes, that at the rate I'd be going, I'd be rewriting the story from scratch, or at the very least, I'd have little time to write new chapter. You're probably glad and throwing a party at the thought.

In any case, I hope your position upon the board of the awards doesn't let this get to your head to maintain such a critical bias. I would perfer to given as fair a chance as everyone else.

Now, as for the rest of you reader, I urge one thing. Don't let the opinions of one critical person sway your tastes awy from Dust to Deceit. PLEASE! I can assure you all, one day, I will go back and fix everything I can, but that day is not today, or tommorow... or maybe even this week or the next. It will happen though, and until then, read, and a few errors here and there should not get you all running away...

Until then, I will see what I can do to make the characters more 'believable' and 'dull', erm, I mean 'normal', as was stated above, even though normal is a very strange way to define a character. Makes you think, would anyone want themselves to be considered 'normal', or would you rather be considered an individual? I'll need to think on that. Now... I must do some very serious retweaking.

Negrek

16th December 2005, 3:16 AM

My dear, I warned you before reviewing that I was prepared to give you my opinion, whether I knew you would like it or not. And I had warned you that I had not liked the story in the previous form and asked if you would like me to review anyway. As you said yes, I can't really see you placing the blame on me.

I don't get what you think makes me biased. Why would I want to see you fade into oblivion? I don't even know you, and I have nothing against your story. Even if I did, I do not judge works based on the author, I judge them on the writing; there are stories on this board that I love and are written by those that I despise as people, and those by friends that I really dislike.

If you think that two moves makes for boring battles, then clearly you haven't given the situation enough thought. Sticking to canonical restrictions allows you room to grow rather than limiting you. Think of all the creative things that you could do with a tackle. How can you make it an interesting attack? What sort of things can you do with growl? Almost any person of marginal talent can make an amazing battle scene using solarbeam--it takes someone truly great to pull off the same using tackle. If you step up to the challenge, I think you'll find it quite fun to try to write battles using unusual moves. And in any case, canon is canon. It's not "I don't like this, I'm going to change it." It is. And anyway, what's the point of having a venusaur if your bulbasaur knows all of its attacks anyway?

I'm not asking you to make the changes now. In fact, I'm pointing out mistakes you've made in the past so that you can learn from them and hopefully avoid them in the future. Let your beginning chapters stand as they are, if you prefer--but please do bear in mind what I've said. Please stop flaming me, kthxbai.

My position on the awards means zilch. I see no reason for why it should affect my style of review. In fact, when I am asked to do reviews for the awards I will probably be far less critical--as I am comparing the 'fics in categories only to other 'fics in that category and not to the world as a whole, which is a much hairier place to try to get ahead in.

On a final note, bear in mind that there are differences between "individual" and "completely unrealistic".

Seijiro Mafuné

17th December 2005, 1:30 PM

Um, Negrek, I think the whole comment about the moon (if you haven't noticed it yet) is that Phil has no idea as to what the moon really does. It's like him saying Earth is still in space and the sun spins around it.

Dilasc

17th December 2005, 11:02 PM

Whee! Small preview! Once again, we get to jump into the first person perspective of our friend, the Flame Wheeling Rattata in chapter 16: Of Mice and Mend

Start Preview

Enough about the grass and the forsook forest around me, its time to handle the human and his pet. <I eat bugs for breakfast!> I hiss to the small bug, still a few feet away from me.

The reaction the spider provides is not what I was hoping for. <Really?> It asks with an odd sense of interest, <So do I!> It sounds happy. <I prefer Weedles. They taste good, and put out for such young creatures.>

As interesting as it was to know that Spinarak actually did rape lesser bugs before eating, I had a mission. <Listen you!> I demand his attention with a loud hiss. <Unless you or your human is an incompetent moron, I will lose! Got it?> I paused, catching my breath before continuing to explain. <I will be going with your human, and be one of his creatures, where I will get stronger! Do I make myself clear?> I pause to narrow my eyes fiercely. I really despise talking to such an inferior creature such as a human, or a bug for that matter, but I have little choice. <There is no other way, unless your human is really, really weak!>

The bug seems unchanged by my words. Bah, why does nobody ever take anything I say very seriously? Am I some sort of joke to the point that a response so calm could possibly follow my dramatic, serious speech! <In that case, you’d have to be very weak,> the spider shrugged, <for my human is not only a screwed up individual, but also pathetic at training. Still, I won’ stop you from throwing your life away, mainly because I don’t give a rattata’s rump about you.>

Dilasc

21st December 2005, 12:02 AM

Okay, a change of plans here. I'm going to try something new. A little something called, being a few chapters ahead of posting time. That basically means that I will have more chapters basically waiting to be editted and fixed before just piling them into the thread. As such, DtD's next update time is undisclosed, and my next chapter may be further away than ever before. Mind you all, the story is not dead. I'm just trying something new, since I notice that some authors seem to use this technique quite often. Until then, enjoy the chapters currently up, and I will be up with my next chapter whenever I have a few more beyond it.

Until then, feel free to come out of the closet and reply, all you readers.

PDL

21st December 2005, 4:31 AM

alright, I think I'll review this thing...

now keep in mind, I've only read up to Chapter 10...

first of, this is pretty interesting, though angst isn't my cup of tea, this story is like the commonwealth nations at tea-time, the tea-time of angst!

alright, now the characters... first of, I dislike Phillip, I want to punch him in the back of the head. But this can be viewed as a good thing, because that means I actually care about this character, unlike other characters that are so easily forgotten and don't leave a lasting impression.

and aside from the sparce number of typos, the story is quite interesting, it sets an unique place... and for some reason I seem to picture the made-up region (what's the name again?) as being in a prepetual fall, where all the leaves are brown and such...

The Jimmies are quite strange in themselves, in that they're much like Jennies or Joys... are there possibly any other characters like that?

all in all, this is quite an interesting fic... I'll have to read the rest later though.

lewahi

22nd December 2005, 9:08 PM

I've read the first three chapters, and so far I like it.

The story is odd, but I guess that's why I like it.

Anyways, I'll finish the rest later.

Good job!

Pikachuu!

26th December 2005, 9:23 PM

Hey dude, I have read abit of your thing already, and I am loving it, so will you notify me about the new chapter realeases... cheers!

Dilasc

26th December 2005, 11:33 PM

Pikachuu!: Alright, you're on the list.

Anyways, all you readers may want to check out my new preview, Paradise to Pain, where Verick is sent to a future where the Oni have had the Storm unleashed upon the world. New chapter still going to be a while due to my new plan for writing chapters ahead of schedule.

Dilasc

29th December 2005, 6:06 AM

Hey readers! I got a news update. I'm not sure how many people give a damn about me, or it, but I just felt I should share my facts. I have been dabbling a bit in alternate plot line progression, and came up with the idea for Paradise to Pain, the story of Kertonmel, twelve centuries in the future, after the Oni unleash their Viral Storm and cause their Armageddon.

Don't worry too much, I know you all love DtD (haha), so I will not be writing that in its entirety until much, much later! Until then, go read the preview, please? I could use some opinions on my idea, and don’t want to remain feeling so invisible.

Well, closet readers (seriously, if you’re reading, get out of the closet! For my sake, please!) It’s another chapter with ye old rat at the center of attention for a little bit.

I know I said that I was going to be taking a while to release this chapter... but eh. I guess I'm not going to be taking forever after all. Oh well! Don't always take my word for everything it's got to say, as I'm not always so trustworthy. Until then, enjoy the next chapter. WARNING: Though it starts out in the first person, it swiftly shifts to the third person person about halfway through, so don't get confused by reading this part here, eh?

Dust to Deceit

Stealing my thunder is a very serious offense. If you do, you could be charged fatally until you explode. No really, I will charge you with a fine of over twenty-thousand volts. So tell me, do you truly want to take this shocking risk?
-Sparkoni

Chapter 16: Of Mice And Mend

There, standing before me, was a human. It towered over me, and for a minute, I felt nervous about trying. Yet, I must escape these woods and grow stronger! I must! There’s nothing left for me here anyway.

“Okay, rat!” the human says in its tongue. I understand his words easily, for humans speak in very simple languages. “I bet you don’t want to go with me, but you don’t have a choice.” His words sound a bit confident, but I hope this human knows what he’s doing.

He is a fool. He thinks I do not wish to go willingly, when I obviously do wish to leave these blasted woods. Then again... I guess I ‘could’ go down fighting, and test his worth. I’m not going to lay down and submit to just anyone... that’s a woman’s job.

The human holds a small ball in his hand, which is half white, and half red. It doesn’t take a genius to know it’s a Pokeball, one of man’s most disturbing, and controlling inventions. “Go!” he states. “Let’s see if you can put yourself to good use, Spinarak,” his tone sounds a bit... unsure, “I’ve been studying a bit. Let’s see what can be done.”

With a toss of what I think is his human hand, the ball opens a few feet away from me. From it, a spider is unleashed in a flash of red and white energy. This green pest is about my height, I suppose, and its six legs quiver as it stands before me. Its face shifts backwards, as its beady black eyes look at its trainer. Oh how easy it would have been for a surprise attack, but no, I’m in the mood to be entertained.

<Fight?> I hear the creature ask in a fearful tone. It’s not as though the human can understand it, poor creature. <Don’t hit me!> it yells.

“What are you doing?” the human asks the bug, looking downwards with impatience. “Attack it! Start with Poison Sting.” He smiles at this.

The bug turns to eye me now, the slave bound creature ready to perform the will of its master. Yes, it may be controlling, but it leads to great power. Great power that only human contraptions can hope to achieve. I suppose I should be more focused on the battle at hand. In a swift motion, long pins are sent my way. They are swift in motion, but with my natural speed, they are easy to avoid. The pins shatter and seem to disappear as they strike a patch of grass. It is strange, considering the flimsiness of wet grass.

Enough about the grass and the forsook forest around me, its time to handle the human and his pet. <I eat bugs for breakfast!> I hiss to the small bug, still a few feet away from me.

The reaction the spider provides is not what I was hoping for. <Really?> It asks with an odd sense of interest, <So do I!> It sounds happy. <I prefer Weedles. They taste good, and put out for such young creatures.>

As interesting as it was to know that Spinarak actually did rape lesser bugs before eating, I had a mission. <Listen you!> I demand his attention with a loud hiss. <Unless you or your human is an incompetent moron, I will lose! Got it?> I paused, catching my breath before continuing to explain. <I will be going with your human, and be one of his creatures, where I will get stronger! Do I make myself clear?> I pause to narrow my eyes fiercely. I really despise talking to such an inferior creature such as a human, or a bug for that matter, but I have little choice. <There is no other way, unless your human is really, really weak!>

The bug seems unchanged by my words. <In that case, you’d have to be very weak,> the spider shrugged, <for my human is not only a screwed up individual, but pathetic at training. Still, I won’ stop you from throwing your life away, mainly because I don’t give a rattata’s rump about you.>

It is at this that the spider leaps a few feet off the ground, as a silky white flows from its mouth, with me as its target. Like before, I avoid the assault rather easily.

“Do it again!” the human commands.

I’ll have to admit, I wasn’t expecting a second attack to be unleashed. Being covered in a white sticky string does not comfort me very well. In fact, I feel as though I’ve probably toyed around far too much.

The human grins, as another human, who I must have been too single minded to have noticed, speaks up. “Phil, I vould suggest...” Yet, his strangely accented words get cut off by the other human.

“No time, Verick,” the human sighs, as it looks back at me, “Spinarak, use Leech Life.”

It’s amazing how sluggish his commands are. Why, I probably could have destroyed this idle spider, but I think I won’t. In fact, I can’t avoid the sharp arachnid fangs that poke into the skin of my back. I feel it, the blood being drained from my body, and I feel oddly weakened. I can’t help but yell in pain.

Maybe I should end my role as narrator. I suppose you are bored listening to the words of a mere rat. Besides that, I really must focus on the task at hand, rather than talk to myself in such a manner, wouldn't you think?

-------

“Keep at it Spinarak,” cheered Phil, “you’re winning this fight... at least, I think you are.” As he smiled, Phil began to understand the role of a trainer and the role of a Pokemon.

<Yummy blood,> said the Spinarak in a happy tone, <if only you Rattata could turn me on sexually, I’d feast upon your kind instead of Weedle.> At that, its pinching fangs went to strike its target once again, but the Rattata was not going to be a favorite meal. With as swift a motion as the purple rodent could go, it rammed its head at the bug, causing it to lose its biting focus. Yet, the spider only seemed to move a few feet at most from the strike.

<Your trainer is rather inept at this, isn’t he?> the rat asked while lunging at the bug as swiftly as it could. <Not that I know the mind of a human, but he seems rather stupid for an already moronic species.>

With a leap from all six of its legs to avoid the lunge, the small bug shrugged, <No, he’s a really stupid human, trust me!>

The rat, however, did not heed the spider’s words carefully. <I have little time to be picky.>

“String shot!” yelled Phillip, determined to capture the sly rat.

With a swift step to its right, the Rattata avoided yet another silky laser, to which it once again, lunged at the bloodsucking spider. As it did, its large fangs gritted against the bottom of its mouth, as its eyes shut tightly and its body began to shake violently.

“Looks constipated...” shrugged Phil.

Verick, however, shook his head. “I vouldn’t be so sure.”

Before Phil could ask why, the rodent was engulfed in a sphere made entirely of red hot flames. It was now charging at its spidery target, blazing both by way of speed and temperature. <I think I’ve changed my mind.> It snarled, as it struck the spider dead on with its burning force.

Into a smoking heap did the spider fall, as its eyes glazed over, and its head slumped towards the ground. Unconsciousness had claimed the beast for an untimely nap.

Phil scowled at this. “Return,” he sighed, “god damn! I was so close to thinking this spider useful!” With a sigh of discontent, he held the spider’s pokeball. In a beam of bright red, the spider was consumed, and sent to a place where men could not go.

At this, the rat’s bodily flames subsided, leaving an unburnt rodent, just as conditionally the same as it had been when it blazed down the bug who dared to face it. <Wimp!> The rat snarled, hoping that its next battle would be far more worth its time, and worth its capture.

“That rat,” he realized at last, “from last night! that was the fire breather!” he cheered, laughing happily at his realization. “I’m not insane!” He cheered just once, before realizing something, which caused him to stop. “This seems really, really cliche.”

Verick rolled his eyes. “You’re really vield, ja!” At that, he pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and a pencil as well.

To that, Phil paid no heed. “A fire breathing rattata is not an everyday thing... I want it!” he stated firmly. “Let’s go Totodile,” he stated, swiftly bringing out a different Pokeball, and throwing it just as quickly, “Bring me this worthy prize!”

In a flash of energy, straight from the red and white ball, the bipedal gator made the scene. <Well... looks like I have to bail Phil out of yet another dilemma,> the gator sighed, its voice showing a feminine tint, <how marvelous!>

The rattata snarled with rage. <A woman?!> it asked angrily. <I am a proud, lone warrior, and I’m supposed to be captured by a woman?!> How dare this human send one from the most inferior of genders to take him down.

<All men are captured by women.> The totodile replied, not too thrilled with the sexist nature of the crude rat. <Its your job as a male to know your role to serve and be served with equality.>

The rat did not pay attention to the reptile’s words. <Women should only speak when told to! You have no right to even dare speak to me as an equal!> That was it! No more nice fire breathing rattata. If it was the way of humanity to send women to do a man’s job, then there was certainly no point in going with the humans, even if an endless supply of power awaited the violet fuzz ball. <That’s it! I was going to go willingly, but I refuse to go by way of a woman like you!>

<How mature...> the Totodile sighed, as it readied its claws. It was going to bleed some common sense into the rat by force if needed. The only thing keeping it from doing so was its human. Hopefully, Phil had grown smarter over the course of a day. Hopefully enough so to know the command for its claws and water attacks. If he didn’t, then it may as well be quitting time for the blue gator. After risking her butt for Phil’s useless life countless times over the course of yesterday, the least he could do, would be to learn how to give proper commands. <Let’s just get this over with.>

Phil meanwhile, was as oblivious to the words that were barked out of the Pokemon’s mouth. After all, Phil was only human, and like any human, he was incapable of naturally being able to understand the very tonal language that Pokemon spoke. “Let’s see if you can do better than Spinarak did,” Phil said to the starter he had almost killed not even a day earlier. It was time! It was time to prove himself not so incapable of handling lesser creatures. Not for his sister, in this case, but for himself, and his own sense of self worth.

Dilasc

30th December 2005, 1:10 AM

It’s time for another interlude! We head back to Orbital Occult to have more spaceman fun! I figure that it’s only right to learn a bit more about such what seems to be the region’s ‘evil team,’ which isn’t evil, or good. Bleh! Good and evil are so trivial and pointless that their meaning is mostly just perspective. Anyway, here we go. Well, I'm so magical that wrote up this interlude in under aday's worth of writing! I'm magical! Now watch as I magically delete the preview in order to make this look a lot more organized. Remember, I want you to reply if you read! Is it honestly so much to ask?

Dust to Deceit

Dreamers seek eternity, and as they dig through the mystical scape of the unconscious world, chaos ensues! One must not become just a dreamer, or they may wake up to a never-ending nightmare.
-???

Interlude 6: In Clode We Trust

Amongst boxes and crates filled with an endless source of food, wood, and other strange supplies, sat a man, on guard of all these important items. After all, these items would be vital for the long trip to Gretkan, and Clode had been entrusted with this current shift on sentry duty.

Suffice to say, however, that the short man with blue hair long enough to reach his shoulders had other things on his mind. In fact, snugged around his ears, and pushing back his slightly curly hair was a pair of headphones, whereupon he was rocking out on his shiny, invisible air guitar!

With about as good a singing voice as a banshee with a sore throat in extreme stereo, he sang along with the lyrics of the song being pumped directly into his ears at full blast. “I am the eggnog! We are the eggnog! I am the Walrein! Chu chu Pichu!”

As he strummed his non-existent instrument, a voice filled the room, and made him nearly crap his pants. “Nice singing,” spoke a sly, yet chilling voice. Fazing through the walls, the appearing of a large, semi-transparent mask made itself known. “I’m sure there’d be use for you in the underworld, as a way to grace hellbound victims with your amazing musical voice.” Its red eyes were intimidating enough, but a large pair of vampire teeth only made matters worse for the lone human.

Clode’s jaw dropped, as his knees quivered weakly at the sight before him. “You...” he knew what it was, but he had no idea why it was here. “You are Spookoni!” His voice was at a high pitch, almost effeminate, only natural, since he was fearing for his life.

The mask head bobbed up and down twice, before grinning with its response, its vampiric teeth showing sharply as it spoke. “I see that my reputation precedes me,” it stated while laughing, “and yet, your useless life will not be ended.”

Clode’s head tilted a bit to the right as he heard this. “It... it’s not?” Could he have been mistaken? Was this demon, the most vicious and bloodthirsty of all Kertonmel’s demons, not going to kill him and devour his soul? “Wait a second!” he realized that something was not right. “How are you managing to talk to me? You demons can’t speak human!”

The demon of the damned sighed. “I suppose you could know what gives,” it stated, opening its fang filled mouth, to reveal something most grotesque.

Clode nearly wanted to vomit at what he saw. “That... it’s a...” he paused, forgetting what human organ that was, which rested on the demon’s tongue.

The demon closed its mouth, and when it reopened, the organ was no longer resting upon its tongue. “A diaphragm, yes,” the demon stated with an intelligent, yet still chilling air about it, “I suppose to a simpleton like you though, the term voice box could be sufficient enough.”

Clode nodded, “Oh yea, I knew that.”

With a roll of its demonic eyes, the beast responded. “Of course you did.” it stated with a sarcastic undertone, “I never doubted that you could.”

In response to his praise, the demon’s face grimaced. “I’d suggest you don’t be so sickeningly thankful, useless creature. I am saving your life only because I have a message for you to bring your leader.”

“What do you need?” asked Clode cautiously. He was concerned that making a pact with a demon was a bad and dangerous idea.

“I simply need you to tell your master that we Oni would like to help you against any resistance you may face getting to Gretkan.” The masked monster stated. “I would be pleased if you did not waste time, as this diaphragm is giving my lungs a bit of a rash.” The demon paused to clear its throat. “Do we have an understanding?”

The air guitarist nodded. “Sure thing, dude.”

Spookoni rolled its red eyes at the human’s statement. “Don’t call me dud!” it snapped angrily. How dare this insignificant creature call a legend that could end its life without even a second thought a ‘dud.’ The thought was most unnerving to the demon in question. “Just go, please!” the demon snapped. “This diaphragm is making my throat very sore.”

The human shook his head. “No can do man!” the air guitarist replied. “I gots me a shift to run.”

The demon smiled. “I’ll take your shift, how about it?” It laughed evilly at that. “Anyone who tries to steal your precious cargo will face the wrath of a demon!”

The blue haired human seemed to be bought by that statement. “Whoa, good point... later dude!”

At that, the human quickly departed from the storehouse, leaving a demon within, all by itself, or so it remained for a few seconds. “Yech!” the demon shouted in disgust as it spat out the human voice box organ. <That thing tastes worse than ***!>

At those words, the demon face was joined by what appeared to be an alien as, light blue in color. “You do good do good you do good good!” it cheered, clapping its fingerless hands together happily as it let loose a chuckle.

The demon glanced at the blue weirdo and took a second to reply. <I hope this plan of yours is worth it. I don’t know why you suggested that I should fraternize and form allies with lesser creatures,> It licked its lips with a dark, purple tongue <still, I’ll take your word for it.>

“I’ll have pretty bird ravage! I ravage long time!” The single minded creature stated for no apparent reason, other than the fact that it could speak, and not know how to shut up.

<Yes, you will have your ‘pretty bird.’> The demon grinned, as its red eyes narrowed in sadistic glee. <I just hope that soon enough we can find our missing brother, Thermaloni. Until then, I suppose we could go along with your plan, so long as you know what you’re doing.>

“Me know what doing! I know well what I doing!” The creature rambled, giggling at every pause.

<Good. I would not want to miss the chance to unleash the storm. Even without our lost brother, should we down Lugia, we could potentially unleash the storm, and cause the chaos we were summoned here to form, many earth years ago.> It laughed evilly at the thought. <Soon... we will clash with a god, and shall hopefully, we will emerge victorious.>

Tezza

30th December 2005, 3:14 AM

I wrote this up a bit ago. I used the FF.net version to review so I hope there aren't too many differences.
Chapter 1 (http://www.geocities.com/topaz_soarhire/1.htm) Just hover your mouse over the hyperlinks.

Seijiro Mafuné

30th December 2005, 3:58 PM

Laffo! That chapter was really funny! And Phil keeps getting less and less smarter thanks to his stupid hatred.

Dilasc

2nd January 2006, 3:13 AM

Tezza: Well now, I have to ask why you persist on a lost cause like myself. You have been far too much help already, to the point that I am guilty to have you even read my works. If you’re finding my work less than good, you should hesitate to read further, and if you’re interest is piqued by the intro, then again, read carefully, or better yet, don’t waste time judgingm, as I will be revising heavily, much to my own chagrin. Many of my starting chapters are still of a quality which they had a year ago, which is very bad. As for revising, I will see what I can do, but I don’t revise very well, otherwise whole paragraphs disappear, change, and heck before long, the whole plot may or may not get torn to shreds by accident. In any case, to work I must go, and while I'm at it, I must figure out a way to draw in more readers, which will take so much time.

Seijiro: Anger blinds judgement, a true fact. Someone as miserable as Phillip has poor judgement due to his overwhelming anger.

So, anyway, so for real this time, no updates for a while. Not until I fix up my work to take away errors that are years old, while hopefully not destroying the story in entirety. Remember to let me know how sad you may be that DtD will not be updating. If this saddens you, you can always post to let me know. Until then, it's back to the drawing board.

blackemerald

2nd January 2006, 3:03 PM

A nice chapter. A really funny one especially the spinarak's comments. Interesting point of view that the rattata wants to go with Phil for the sole purpose of getting stronger instead of loving the trainer though I do think that it would've been more effective if you had kept this chapter solely in the first person. I can see Phil's anger starting to cloud his jugement which could make for an interesting turn of events on how he trains his pokemon.

Good luck with chapter 17!

~B.E

Dilasc

6th January 2006, 4:33 AM

I do not have a new chapter, but I will answer a question that was asked at least once because I'm a nice guy and willing to teach science!

The moon's importance to the Earth (WARNING: science ahead, I repeat! Science ahead!): You may not know it, but the moon is slowly inching away from the earth. The believed rate of escape is believed to be about an ich per year.

Eventually, due to this weakening pull, the moon will one day be free of Earth's gravity, and will simply float away. When this happens, the earth will be in chaos. The Earth's axis will spin out of control! It could be summer one day and winter the next. I kid you not, I have learned this to be true.

When will this happen? I dunno... probably in a few billion years. Still, next time you see the moon in the sky, think of it as more important than just getting the next low tide, remember the importance of a balanced order of seasons! You wouldn't want the earth to spin out of control on your ubergreat anscestors, would you?

On that note, I will end this bump... erm, post! Remember, if something does not make sense, do not hesitate to ask, and never hesitate to review. I can assure you, there will be a lot more scientific knowledge for me to regurgitate from what you can likely, but are probably too lazy, to find on the internet if you know where to look. Until then, enjoy the story, for your sake, and mine... but mostly yours. After all, if a read isn't happy, I'm twice as sad that I've made said reader sad.

Dilasc

13th January 2006, 3:05 AM

While I revamp chapters, I will be slow to produce updates, however, I will still stick by my story and offer tidbits about the very vast Pokemon world that Kertonmel is a part of. So far, intro and chapter one have been fixed up a bit, taking out some of the sloppy grammar and odd plotholes to make it more realistic. You'll find lots of changes as I go on, but remember, the plot and main story is still the same.

Anyway, here's a far off preview a few chapters down the way. You're not likely going to see this phrase for a while. Be warned though, it's... somewhat naughty, or so I believe the kids may find themselves a bit irked.

Preview Time

I will not eat that chocolate shoe,
I will not eat it, so screw you!

I will not eat it with some bread,
Cuz it tastes like the living dead,

I will not eat it with a beer,
Nor will I stick it up my rear!

I will not eat it with some cheese,
Or with a hooker that will sleaze

I will not eat it on a rope,
I’d rather go and smoke some dope!

I will not jump Loobinad Bridge,
Or spank a mankey just a smidge!

At this point in the show, Phil had to ask Verick a very important question. “What the hell are you watching a baby show for?”

Verick shrugged his shoulders with a hint of indifference, “I vas just amazed how crazee that you Mongols are, and zat you pushes the dope on children, ya! Vhat’s up with that?”

Phil dodged the question almost in its entirety, and instead prompted to offer Verick an unimportant tidbit of nearly useless information. “I hope you know that the part about sticking it up his butt is just a metaphor for kicking ***, don’t you?”

With a simple nod, the red haired foriegner had but one more question. “Vat does 'spankink the mankey' mean?”

Dilasc

16th January 2006, 3:39 AM

Okay, so here's a more close to release preview. I really wish more people would post, because this wouldn't just be a bum if I got more replies from time to time.

Enjoy the parody named title and the snippet of the Totodile vs. Rattata.

Passion of the Mice

<You’re gonna die, little girl!> hissed the rat as it rushed at the gator with great speed. <This is what you get for trying to make it in a man’s world!>

As it reached its mark, the rat leaped off the ground, its head at the forefront, ready to ram its enemy. Upon doing so, said skull was met with a sharp, blue claw that did not sink too deep, but did hurt, nonetheless. A small scrape mark covered the rat’s head, as the gator smiled, letting the rodent know that it was unhurt. <You’re too egotistical.>

The rat snarled, and ran at the gator again. From its close range, the did not have time to react, and was rammed in its chest by the rat’s slightly scratched skull.

“Ah crap!” Phil snarled, clueless to the words that the Pokemon were saying. He snarled at himself. He had forgotten to give another command. It was his job, after all, to ensure that his Pokemon listened to him and did as they were told. “Water Gun it!”

The crocodilian beast grinned as its mind swiftly processed the command. It was glad to see that Phillip was starting to have an actual clue, and proud to unleash its laser of water on command. In fact, as it got back to its feet, that was exactly what happened. With great force, a torrent of water poured out of the beast’s mouth in a concentrated stream, headed straight for the angered, sexist rat. However, as swiftly as it had been unleashed, the rat was no longer there, only leaving a pile of wet, and tattered grass, as well as a small amount of mud in its wake. The rat’s location was somewhere a few feet above the ground, whereupon its eyes began to redden as they had done just so recently, and before long, the rat was surrounded in a ring of flames, which then charged at the gator with great velocity.

“I want that Rattata!” Phil snarled, stamping his foot in the grass. “Water Gun again!” Phil commanded, causing the watery beam to clash against the burning beast. Steam scattered about the rat, concealing whatever happened away from the eyes of all present.

Seijiro Mafuné

16th January 2006, 12:22 PM

The battle just get more and more exciting...

Interesting.

Zephyr Soul

16th January 2006, 6:33 PM

I need to say something.

I just started to read Chapter 2, then almost instantly grew really angry.

What the heck is wrong with ADD? I have it, and it's not a 'mental or physical disorder'. It just causes distraction, and if you think that's bad, just try and see AD/HD. That's Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. Of course, it cause distraction and hyperness.

Both of them can be treated with medicine.

Sorry if this is disrupting your fic. I just needed to say that.

Dilasc

16th January 2006, 6:45 PM

Well, I have been meaning to fix that, so I have, presto chango! It is now PDD, Pervasive Developemental Disorder, which is a rather high state of autism, and if severe enough, the kind you'll find living in group homes.

Ouch, I got two one star ratings! What the hell is going on here? Is someone out to get me or something? I swear, every single story of mine and even my new preview are suffering as well. What's goin on here?

Dilasc

20th January 2006, 4:16 AM

New chapter. Whee!

Dust to Deceit

People... people who hate people, are the luckiest people in the world. I wish I could hate people the way they do!
-Ancient Proverb From Unknown Source

Chapter 17: Passion of the Mice

A puff of thick smoke rose to the sky above in a cloud lighter than air. Following that, another small cloud of smoke did the same, dispersing as it reached above he treetops of the forest overhead. Lo and behold, the true source of the hot clouds could be pinpointed to a little mouse with purple fur.

This purople furred creature was no ordinary rodent. This little mouse was born with the ability to breathe fire, all thanks to its scum of a ‘father,’one who tried to kill said son, and managed to kill said son’s son less than a full day prior to his current fight. <Woman!> yelled the rat, <You should realize your place.> It stared angrily, snarling at its watery foe, which was to be a blue skinned gator that stood upon its back legs with great ease.

<My place is alongside my human trainer,> the agitated crocodile replied, its temper nearly reaching its full potential, <but perhaps your place in life is but a grave!>

This caused the toothy rodent’s eyes to widen in horror. <No...> it said, horrified at the memory of its son, and its failure to protect, the way only a good father could. <No!> it repeated in a louder, less frightened tone. <You *****! I will never give in and end my life! I still have my son to avenge!> Its eyes reddened in rage, as its two buck teeth gritted against the bottom of the creature’s lip. <I will KILL you!>

Phillip Molson, like most humans, was completely unaware of what the beasts were saying, as he possessed no skill in their common tongue. He did know that they were talking however, though from the looks of it, it almost appeared as though Totodile’s claws were all retracting, forming the shape of a fist... all except for the finger in the middle.

With a loud hiss, the rodent ran at the reptilian woman in a fit of rage. The rat was not going to dare be upstaged by some useless woman, or he’d be damned to be as dead as his son. It was to this that Phil’s eyes widened as the boy snapped to attention. “Okay Totodile, when the rat draws close, scratch it!”

<You’re gonna die, little girl!> hissed the rat as it rushed at the gator with great speed. <This is what you get for trying to make it in a man’s world!>

As it reached its mark, the rat leaped off the ground, its head at the forefront, ready to ram its enemy. Upon doing so, said skull was met with a sharp, blue claw that did not sink too deep, but did hurt, nonetheless. A small scrape mark covered the rat’s head, as the gator smiled, letting the rodent know that it was unhurt. <You’re too egotistical.>

The rat snarled, and ran at the gator again. From its close range, the did not have time to react, and was rammed in its chest by the rat’s slightly scratched skull.

“Ah crap!” Phil snarled, clueless to the words that the Pokemon were saying. He snarled at himself. He had forgotten to give another command. It was his job, after all, to ensure that his Pokemon listened to him and did as they were told. “Water Gun it!”

The crocodilian beast grinned as its mind swiftly processed the command. It was glad to see that Phillip was starting to have an actual clue, and proud to unleash its laser of water on command. In fact, as it got back to its feet, that was exactly what happened. With great force, a torrent of water poured out of the beast’s mouth in a concentrated stream, headed straight for the angered, sexist rat. However, as swiftly as it had been unleashed, the rat was no longer there, only leaving a pile of wet, and tattered grass, as well as a small amount of mud in its wake. The rat’s location was somewhere a few feet above the ground, whereupon its eyes began to redden as they had done just so recently, and before long, the rat was surrounded in a ring of flames, which then charged at the gator with great velocity.

“I want that Rattata!” Phil snarled, stamping his foot in the grass. “Water Gun again!” Phil commanded, causing the watery beam to clash against the burning beast. Steam scattered about the rat, concealing whatever happened away from the eyes of all present.

In the end, a drippy purple rat leaped from the steam, its eyes enraged, and its large fangs were beared. As it landed, its fangs sunk deep into the gator’s left arm. <Ha!> it managed to mutter through its sinking bite.

As the gator yelled in pain, Phil snarled as well. “If I lose this rat...” he began, taking a deep breath before speaking, “I’ll be filled with so much rage!” he stated, his calm was that which would precede a storm, ora scorn.

That word though, the Totodile knew it. It knew it very well. ‘Rage.’ Technically, it was not its god given trainer command, but the words did come from its trainer’s mouth. A technique of anger seemed fitting for this situation, a build up of unkempt berserker strength to be unleashed at its fullest potential. Given this ‘command,’ the gator calmed down, if only briefly, as its arm was certainly going to fall off at the rate that the rat was going if it didn’t lash back soon.

“Totodile!” Phil yelled with panic, “Get that pest off of you!”

In its current state of impatience, that was all that the gator needed to hear in order to unleash a fisted punch of unkempt rage at the rat’s stomach. The power of the attack caused the rodent’s jaw to open widely and release its hold upon the gator’s arm, which was deeply punctured, and dripping blood, as one would from a bite so deep. From there, the gator struck again, still deep in its frenzy, sending the purple creature to the ground in pain.

The rat was now struggling to get back to its feet. <T... take me...> it stammered, <take me now!>

The gator gave a face of pure disgust as its healthy hand grasped itself around the bleeding wound. <You’re a hypocrite that shows your true, twisted colors! Sorry, but I don’t think I’m into being dominated by incompatible jerks. I’d rather hump a Bellsprout!>

The rat snarled weakly, as its breath heaved heavily from the ground. <No! M... make your trai... trainer take me with him,> the Rattata smiled even in its battered state, <this... was, what I wanted all along.>

The gator hissed with great disgust, <I’d sooner sell my soul and my womb to an Oni than let you travel alongside my human.>

Verick, who was comfortably sitting upon a forest rock, writing who knows what in his notebook, noticed the scene before him. “Vell, Phillip, aren’t you goink to throw the ball?”

The angst-filled teen nodded. “Oh yea!” he smiled, grabbing one of the Pokeballs that Brenetmos had given him. “Time to claim my prize!” he said with almost childish glee as he tossed the ball at the battered, seemingly dying rodent.

The bal twirled in the air, as its red and white pattern rotated around itself. It didn’t travel very far, however, until it met fate with a beam of water to set it off course. <NO!> yelled the gator, even though the humans could not understand.

“Totodile!” gasped Phil, as he threw another ball, only to be met with yet another act of deflective defiance. “What the hell are you goddamn doing? I order you to stop doing this!”

The gator opened its mouth, but Phil’s stern gaze shot it down. Sure, it could easily protest, but truly, defying its master in this manner would only lead to trouble later on, just as it had led to trouble a day ago. It knew that it had to trust its master. That was, according to the Brenetmos man, the way that Pokemon and their human masters both grew strong.... through teamwork. With a sigh, it turned its head downward. Perhaps it would regret letting the sexist mouse join Phil’s entourage, but at least it knew that it was doing the right thing to trust human judgement.

“Now, lets try this again, shall we?” Phil asked, grabbing one of the fallen Pokeballs and tossing them at the mouse. This time, the gator did not get in the way, and the red and white sphere of metal struck its mark. The mouse seemed to turn into a transparent beam of infrared, and then disappeared into the oblivion of the Pokeball. There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation.

“Yea! I’m the man!” Phil cheered, completely forgetting to thank his red haired friend for the sign of congratulatory good will. “There ain’t nobody who has a Rattata as cool as mine! Mine breathes flames! Wahoo!” For the first time in days, Phil was truly thrilled! He had won a battle all by himself, and commanded his Pokemon with what he believed to be true expertise, as far from the truth as that may have been.

“Way ta go, ya,” smiled Verick, “zis makes for a perfect clincher for ze first chapter of ze story of your life.”

“Your story... of me?” he asked, approaching the Viking. “Eh, is that what you were wasting your time writing?” He glanced over the notebook that Verick was writing on, and glanced closely at the pencilled in words and the many erasure smudges. “Gimme that!” he demanded in a rude tone.

As Phil’s eyes skimmed the words carefully and thoughtfully, Verick looked on hopefully, as he noticed Phil’s prize blue gator hop up onto the rock, and stood next to the seated Viking. As it did, Verick ran his hand along the back of its head, as though he were petting a cat and scratching it behind its ears.

The beast felt a surge of wonder and comfort, even as it held its still bleeding arm. <Oh man! If I could mate with humans, I would so do you fifty times over before the end of the hour!>

Phil’s eyes scanned the paper and the words pencilled in, and roughly turned the page when he was done. After a bit more scanning, he looked back at Verick. “Well, you’re writing the story of my quest, eh? Before I even get to the part about how filled with misspellings, poor choice words, and a lack of knowledge of our language’s tricks and turns, I must ask you this honestly,” he paused, catching his breath. Afterwards, he nearly burst out into shouting, “who the hell would want to read the boring story of my life?” he asked with a demanding tone. “Considering your poor grammar, you’re just going to make my story of my life that looks like crap!”

“I...” Verick began, unsure of what he wanted to say next. “Vell, I like to write, ya! Vhat’s wrong with that?” This harsh criticism from Phil was not new by any stretch of the imagination. Though not from Phil directly, there has been a great deal of criticism from others he had met.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking to write,” Phil stated angrily, “but I’ll be angry if there’s a story written about my life and nobody were to read it.” He stated with fierce determination, “Nobody better make a stupid story starring me! I swear I will kill you myself if I were to be in a story the critics didn’t say was anything less than a five star quality epic film!”

Verick shrugged his shoulders, “I vouldn’t mind if it vere rated four walls.” His odd choice of the word wall was oddly out of place, especially in Phillip’s opinion.

As humans chattered away, from a small batch of tall grass nearby, a black colored beast was watching. Much like the horned dog that nearly killed the rat earlier that day, this creature was a lupine beast with black, leathery fur, and with small trails of smoke forming in its nostrils. It had been watching the rat carefully, and its use of its fiery power caught the hound’s interest. In a swift motion, it dashed away as fast as it could.

As it ran away, it revved its head backwards, then pointed it to the sky. As it did, a silent noise was unleashed, and it, and other dogs of the sort could hear it. That was the way of the hound, with a howl so precisely toned that only they could hear, and only they could utilize to the fullest extent.

<Fire breather...> it mumbled quietly as it calmed out of its signaling call, <that little vermin is the of one of our bloodline that alpha male failed...> the beast trailed, and let an evil grin control its face. It knew that rattata, it had to be the one of the alpha’s bloodline, no questions asked. The nose of a dog was simply too strong, and far too precise to tell a lie of that sort.

There was only one question on the dog’s mind. Who would deal the rat its final demise, especially now that it was under the control of a human?

Seijiro Mafuné

20th January 2006, 11:28 AM

So... a Houndour/Houndoom was the reason why the Rattata knew how to use a fire attack? Intermesting. Go on!

Dilasc

22nd January 2006, 12:36 AM

I think that was explained in interlude four, 'Chew the Rat With Me.' The values of breeding shine through, as the Rat knows Flame Wheel from its houndoom father.

Of lesser importance, it also knows bite, but this hardly matters much to the story.

Dilasc

29th January 2006, 5:03 AM

Man, I've gotten 3 one star ratings! Who's been downvoting me without letting me know why? I don't mind being given a single star rating, even if by three different people, but don't be a spineless coward about it. I'm beginning to feel that people don't even want me here or something. Is my writing that bad? Hmph! Not like anyone will tell me anything anyway, but here's a a treat for everyone anyway.

Anyway, here's a sneak peak of next chapter. It features more First Person with Totodile.

Chapter 18: Totally Pride - PREVIEW

What rights do humans have to think they are in command? Not very much, though, when it comes down to it, it’s nothing to get upset or angry over. It isn’t like I’m going to betray him, for I have a feeling, that, just like me, he will grow. He will learn and realize that hardships build character. That, as I have learned from my family, makes us stronger, and is why I have been so brave as to go out of my way to accept such an awkward idea, as to go with this human.

Dilasc

14th February 2006, 8:50 AM

New chapter time. I wonder sometimes, as I have been told that my characters are very offbeat, if there was any way I could, oh... normalize them. I’m not too good at making ‘normal’ characters because I just don’t know how to define a normal person. Hmm, just something to think about. Anyway, new chapter time.

Ahem, this is a somewhat longish chapter. Enjoy the new characters, because this one’s gone to the dogs!

REVIEW! REVIEW! Heck, I don’t care, just REPLY! I beg onb my knees, in the midst of being really, really depressed! Please?

Dust to Deceit

What you call demonic is nothing but a opinionated title. Good and evil... they are a balance which has been defined by a hive minded mentality of society. Truth be known, to fear the demon is to fear thyself, for beneath the heart, the demon true demon is within you! In the end, good and evil, chaos and order... they simply do not exist!
-From the Annals of the Ancient Greek Philosopher, Humber

Chapter 18 - Toto-ly Dour

I have been bitten, tossed around, and subjected to verbal abuse for a crime I did not commit, as well as for being the gender that I am. I have risked my life for the sake of others, and hardly even considered the risk I placed myself in to do so. Now, after all that work which I have done to help my human owner, I begin to feel a great deal of dissatisfaction.

I am a Totodile, or more specific, the Totodile of human commander Phillip Mar... erm, Mull... uh, well, whatever that last name was, I forget, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter, since I’ll know it when I hear it. Ugh, why do humans have such a complex language?

It’s probably not my place to wonder about such minuscule things such as the meaning of language, life, and all that garbage, because when it comes right down to it, does it even matter? No, I don’t think it does. Life should be about getting by, day by day, and enjoying what you can. It should not be about questioning its meaning and mulling about, pondering the fallacies and fantasies that define our reality. Am I right?

Regardless of anyone’s thoughts, I’m beginning to despise him. I am beginning to feel irked about Phillip and his self-destructive attitude that life is out to destroy him. Sure, I suppose I can understand the misunderstanding for his verbal abuse, but this feeling of being a lesser creature does not suit me. What rights do humans have to think they are in command? Not very much, though, when it comes down to it, it’s nothing to get upset or angry over. It isn’t like I’m going to betray him, for I have a feeling, that, just like me, he will grow. He will learn and realize that hardships build character. That, in turn, can make us stronger.

The best to happen to me so far was a sensual and euphoric petting from the human with a funny tone to his voice. I can’t understand half the words he says, but his human fingers have a touch that could heal the legendary Tetsicles of all his hatred for humanity.

You don’t want to ever meet Tetsicles face to face. He is a bitter, two-headed dragon who wants nothing more and nothing less than to reclaim much of Mongolia, China, and Russia for himself and his draconic citizens who have been scattered by raids from Empirical ideals from humans on all sides. I know this, because that is the story that my mother told me, and had passed down to her from many generations ago.

It was my curiosity to wish to delve into the truth that led me to the Brenetmos human, in order to let me stay under the guise of a trained Pokemon. For now, I will watch, and maybe one day, I will actually meet Tetsicles. I doubt it, but the future is a fickle thing that cannot be gauged.

I know, I must sound rather philosophical for a mere totodile, but you are very wrong. I doubt you’d believe me if I told you how, but trust me, I’m not as smart as I sound right now, mainly because I’m regurgitating information that has been passed down for generations, and will continue to be passed down for many more generations to come. In turn, this is almost an instinctual habit that does not change very willingly. You know what? It probably won’t change, period! In short, my species is doomed to a life of repetition and life based on the limited knowledge we have, mixed with the instincts that we get. There is no end to this cycle.

One day, I will seek a way to overcome it, and break free of the monotonous circle of life that befalls simple creatures like myself. In the end, everyone does, but nobody has the guts to do anything. Truth be known, I have no idea if I am even up to such a difficult task.

Brown haired Phillip Molson held a red and white sphere in front of him and pointed the small button upon it at his starting Pokemon. “Return,” he said, a red laser to zap the gator into nothingness. In turn, this caused the beam to disappear into the obscurity of a place no human could ever enter, and all the while Phil wondered aloud, “What’s it like in such a small space?”

It was Phil’s turn to shrug his shoulders, as he glanced at Verick with a deep gaze. “You talk strange! Where are you from, anyway?”

“I am Norse.” Verick replied simply enough as he stood up from the large rock he was seated upon.

Phil nodded, his eyes shifting left and right to make sure nobody could hear the next words to leave his mouth. “Say Verick... have you, well, have you... uh, have you ever seen the Ocean?” His question was in a hushed, hesitant tone.

“Yea, I haf seen da Ocean, and have ridden ze vaves by longboat. Ist fun to do, but vhy are you asking me now?”

Phillip sighed, and spoke again just as hesitantly as before, “I’ve always wanted to see the blue ocean with its majestic waves and to bask amongst its warm, refreshing waters,” he stated uneasily, almost in a dreamlike state as he continued, “even if I don’t swim them, just looking at the peaceful sea would be good enough for me.”

“I see.” Verick replied, unsure how to keep this conversation going any further.

Phillip too, seemed unsure of what to say next, so he too let subject the drop like an anvil falling from the upper stratosphere. “So... Lombta, huh? According to murdering jerk’s older brother, it’s to the west,” he said.

“Ja!” Verick replied with a curt nod. “Ve go this vay.”

“Let’s go then,” Phil replied half-heartedly. The fifty percent of the heartiness that went into his words were from the fact that at this point, there would probably be no better place to go than home, and to run for home would probably anger his father, and upset his mother. “Onwards to the Kertonmel Destiny!” He replied with just as little enthusiasm as his statement beforehand.

Verick did not see to be done just yet. Though his feet moved to keep up with him, his mind was not yet ready. A simple question remained. “Vhat ist the Kertonmel Destiny, Phillip?”

“It’s the Pokemon League in this area,” Phil explained calmly, “as cheesy as its name is, it’s what I am doing in my sister’s name.”

Verick nodded. “I see.”

At that the humans were on their way, but the world was not at ease, and the Rattata Dillema had only just begun. From the shadows of the shrubbery lurked a beast of prey, and with a dark snarl that would put the fear of demons in anyone, the scouting dog smiled evilly as its large canine fangs lunged downwards to the prey it had captured earlier. The barely noticeable brown feathers were scattered all about, as a bloody mess of torn flesh and red blood stained the ground, and the hound’s lips and paws. This prey was a simple pidgey, and to the leathery black skinned Houndour, it was a fitting snack to feast upon for a job well done. <Humans and their ideas for power..> the blood boiling hound huffed. <What awkward creatures they are.>

After finishing the dead Pidgey, splotches of dried blood and brown feathers littered the ground below. It was as though the fiery dog wanted to leave a fear inducing message in any passerby, be they human or Pokemon. With the violent marking of terror complete, the dog bounded for its pack, unleashing a silent howl. Only those with a precise hearing would catch on to this sound. It was a howl that only a dog could pick up upon, and was the pride and teamwork of the Houndour specie.

An hour of running amongst the grass and trees of the Mongolian forest, and the dog reached its destination. It had reached its pack den. The den, as the Hounds called it, was not much of an elaborate lair. All it truly could be defined as was a simple clearing in the midst of the trees. The fact that it remained so out in the open did not mean much to the spirited dogs of war. Should anything threaten their land, the target would likely be bitten and torched to a long, excruciatingly unpleasant death. That was the consequence for stepping over the bounds of a hell hound’s territory. It was a price set in blood.

Resting on the ground, many of the black hearted dogs relaxed after a long day or night on the hunt, while others who were awake and ready for the hunt stood upright and alert. Their keen noses sniffing the air and finding anything that smelled unpleasant, other than of course, their own crap, which was of course unpleasant no matter what creature produced it. A hearty diet of meat though produce the smelliest, and meatiest pieces of them all, however.

Amongst the gathering, one dog stood out as different, bigger and prouder. Unlike most of his brethren, his size was large, his tail was thin and long, and its ears neighbored sharp, spiraling horns. It was a Houndoom, and to this pack, it was also the Alpha male.

With a snarl, the large dog glanced at the small houndour who had just arrived. <So,> it began with a hint of interest, <my son has fled the forest under the captivity of a human, has it?> It snarled yet again, but unlike its first growl, this one was a happy one, pleased by the news that it heard. <I’m surprised that rat bastard managed to evade me for so long.>

Another small dog’s head shot up at this, its voice as dark as its brethren’s, but this time with a feminine undertone. <The rodent must die!>

At this, the lupine devil snarled angrily as it glared at the interrupting female. <Know your place, ***** ! It is here, breeding and producing future warriors for our pack!> Its eyes, which were a shade of brown, reddened with fury. How dare a ***** try and tell him what to do! No *****, no female dog, could ever rule the Houndour’s clan of this forest.<Now,> the big dog continued, glaring at the one who had spotted its rodent child, <speak. I am not thrilled that you too, woman, have run off,> he said with an angry rasp in his tone, <but, your findings however, will spare you of retribution.>

The dog who had found the fiery rat shot a small puff of smoke from its nose. Its trajectory was vertical, for with a hint of vanity, the dog’s head was pointed to the sky. <You’ll be thrilled to know that your son shares your views on women.>

The big dog laughed at that, its eyes calm at the prospect of the purple rat being such a gender bigot. <Ah, as much as I wish nothing more than to remove him, I must say it,> the alpha male replied, as it took a deep breath before speaking, <that’s my boy!> He said as cheerfully as a demonic creature could manage to sound. All in all, a happy alpha was even more terrifying than an angry one, mainly because the alpha rarely had a good, hearty laugh. <As for you,> he said, his eyes and fangs pointed at the girl who scouted his son, <leave me! I will send one of the warriors out to be captured for the sole purpose of subjugating or destroying my traitor son.>

As the alpha male ended his words, another dog that looked much like he did perked its ears upwards, as a smirk covered its face. Its face was not seen by the alpha, much to the smiling Houndoom’s fortune, but it still smiled, knowing what the woman was going to say next.

<No,> the ***** said defiantly, <let me go instead!>

The alpha’s mouth opened as it unleashed a terrifying roar. Any birds in the area filled the air with a symphony from their flapping wings, as all creatures within a half a mile radius fled with the fear of life and death itself upon them.

<No?> it asked quietly, calm before unleashing the storm of its fury. <No? NO?!> it asked, a roaring bark again ripped the area with fear. <How dare you! What good reason would I send a ***** like you to catch a rotten runt like that?>

<Let her go, Chagith> another voice intervened, this one dark, yet not as filled with rage as the alpha. This was the other horned dog. This was the dog who smiled secretly behind his leader’s back. <Diato surely could do a fine job.>

<Stay out of this, Frus!> Chagith, the alpha, snapped, <A reject of an alpha like yourself, and yet you defy me? I spared you your life when I fought you for this position because I felt your strength would be better if it served as muscle, rather than carrion. Do not make me change my mind,> the dog warned warily at the thought of the rejected alpha trying usurp himself back into power.

Frus laughed, as he spoke in a tone far calmer and much slyer than the alpha, <So are you afraid that Diato could not defeat a mere rattata?>

With a snarl, Chagith calmed slightly, but his mind was filled with the never-ending idea of paranoia, and was not about to trust his closest equal in power so readily. <Fine, speak your mind, Frus, but say nothing stupid unless you wish for me to sink my teeth into said mind of foolishness.>

<Send Diato,> Frus repeated, <if you feel your son is no threat. What big loss would Diato be anyway? She is, after all, just a *****, as you said yourself.>

Chagith was silent. He would never admit it out loud, but Frus was far more intelligent and far more clever than he was, but the fact remained that Chagith possessed power, which was where he excelled in compare to Frus. As such, Chagith kept his eye on Frus. Everyone wanted his throne of command, and alpha status, and he knew it. The only reason he remained is because nobody had the courage or the power to take him down.

<I will see her to the humans,> said Frus, gaining a wide eyed stare from the alpha male.

<And what purpose would that serve?>

<You obviously forget that we’re dealing with humans. He could be armed with a death weapon of sorts.> Frus replied with honesty.

The alpha sighed in aggravation. He didn’t need his keen nose to smell trouble coming a mile away, but the prospect of a human attack was certainly nothing to laugh at. As such, there would certainly be safety in numbers. <Fine, go with Diato,> he snapped, as he leapt forward to glare angrily at the lesser Houndoom, <but if you’re not back within two hours, I will drag you back here by your neck with my fangs! Do you understand me?>

Frus smiled smugly, nodding as he did. <Yes I do,> his dark, yet sly voice responded, which in turn made the alpha growl.

<I don’t like that smile. Get rid of it or you’ll find yourself never able to smile again!>

At that, the other hound forced the smile off his face, and glanced at Diato. <Are you ready to go find some humans?> As he spoke to her, his eye twitched. Though it was truly a wink, the dog rushed his front paw to his face to make it appear like an itchy nose.

With a smile, a nod, and a wag of her tail, Diato responded, <Yes, Frus, I am ready to go,> she replied. At that, she turned to leave, not even taking a second glance back at the others of her kin. It was no secret that her departure was nowhere near permanent, and as such, none of the other dogs cared one way or the other.

As Diato and Frus left the clearing, Diato did something far unbefitting of the average hound of darkness, she giggled. It didn’t matter in front of Frus, for he was the one male who she cared for. Her stubby tail wagged as she ran alongside him, her plan coming to fruition. <That Chagith is a real moron!>

<Indeed,> Frus replied as he glanced about with his nose sniffing the air wildly. <We will take him by force with all our human empowered training.>

<Yes, and you will regain pack leadership once more. With me at your side, of course.>

Frus shook his head <No, I think not,> he smirked wickedly, granting a very welcoming view of his razor sharp teeth, and then, his mouth shut, as he continued to speak, <I think it’s time a woman took command.>

Diato blinked, her jaw dropping ajar as she heard him say this, and then, she licked him on the cheek. If she were a human, it would have been th equivalent of a kiss. <You will be the alpha male, Frus.>

Frus nodded, as his ears perked upwards. <I hear something coming this way,> he said. His eyes did not but see shades of grayscale, but his ears surely told no lies. <I think it’s a human,> he replied.

The sound was indeed human. From what the dog’s could see, he had long... hair, if that’s what humans called that stringy stuff that looked like multi-colored grass. His mouth was twisted into a smug smile. “Ah, the good life!” the human exclaimed, talking to nobody but himself, “I think that flat chested, green haired babe digs me!” he said with the idea of ego printed on every syllable. “I bet I’ll see her at the Kertonmel Destiny, or maybe even sooner, so I hope.”

<Destiny!> Diato snapped in realization, <The rat’s human slaver is going there. Hide!> Diato exclaimed swiftly, but did not end her speech at that, for she quickly added a few more words <I love you!>

Frus did not reply, but even for a dog of fire, he suddenly felt hot. The cheesiness of the situation was so melted that it was practically liquid. With a smile on his face, he nodded and ran away so Diato could be on her way to power.

With a growl, Diato sniffed the air and followed the scent and boisterous ego of the human she was listening to. It wasn’t very long a dash, much to her relief, but that hardly mattered compared to the road that awaited her under human control. <Here we go!> she yelled, and at that, she let the human know of her presence.

blackemerald

14th February 2006, 5:14 PM

Very good. I'm interested by Totodile's thoughts as they might lead to betrayl and other things. And it's always glad to know that the trainer's first pokemon doesn't always have to like them automatically which seems to be the case most of the time.

The pack of Houndoom also intrige me. You've done a great job with the leader's personality as I see them as bloodthirsty creatures from hell ^^.

The only mistake I could find:

With a snarl, Chagith calmed slightly, but his mind was filled with the never-ending idea of paranoia, and was not about to trust his closest equal in power so readily. <Fine, speak your mind Chagith, but say nothing stupid unless you wish for me to sink my teeth into said mind of foolishness.>

The second time you said Chagith I think you meant Frus. I was wondering why he would want to bite himself.

~B.E

Dilasc

9th March 2006, 11:41 PM

Good news! I’m not dead! Yes, I’m still very much alive and writing. What is this? Yes, you may find this chapter a bit... awkward, and make no doubt about it, this chapter very much IS different. I felt that maybe I could give you a small glimpse into the recent past preceeding the story. Be warned, there is a religious undertone present. You will likely find a few zero minus chapters as you go. Basically, this was my idea for an entirely new story that this time actually would have been a rewrite of DtD, and would have called its Deity Graces. I’m a bit unwilling to let go of this story though, so with this experimental, edge hanging chapter, I begin something interesting. I wonder though, if this unorthidox jump to the recent past is bad, enjoyed, or if you'd like me to actually get back and write a real chapter. I have no idea, to be honest, so as always, I live for feedback!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter Zero Minus One - Missionary Impossible

Faint lighting filled the simple church of the Lord that day. Silence ever so blessed filled the lengthy church with its nonexistent symphony, true music to the ears of the only person within the shaded chapel.

Father Jonkins was a calm, and personable man with a love for life, and the teachings and disciplines of ‘The Lord.’ A god of love and passion, ‘The Lord’ was what lead Father Larry Jonkins to a missionary job, which brought him to the calm steppes of Kertonmel, Mongolia.

It was undoubted by his flowing grey robes that this was a man of the cloth, and the way he knelt before the faintly visible altar at the far end of the room proved that his prayer was deep and devout. Even after fifty-six years of life and hardships, Father Jonkins was devout in his beliefs, even in a world where the most godly of Pokemon, were of similar reverence and considered gods as well. Not that the man of the robes cared for anything of the sort, but it worried him not what beliefs that people chose to follow.

It was at that point that the door to the outside world opened with a loud creak that lingered, providing a noise with which every bit of daybreak used to fill the room. As the sunlight light flooded into the dim chapel, a small figure stood upon the red carpet that trailed a straight line to the altar with Father Jonkins. As light began to fill the room, the appearance of this holy sanctum became clear. Perhaps not too big, rows of wooden benches lay to the left and right of the carpet pathway, while the walls appeared of polished brown wood. Wherever there was a window, beautifully portrayed designs were formed from colored glass. One of them was of a man, drabbed only in what appeared to be a shoddy towel around his waists, hanging from a wooden lowercase letter t with blood spilling from his wrists and head, while the window on the other side was of a very similar looking man alive and smiling, with what appeared to be a white light in his hands. This light almost shone, and probably would have if it were not just white, painted glass upon a large windowsill.

Always as this door opener, who appeared to be a human woman, stepped into this sacred land, did she glance about in astonishment Ever since the new church was built a year and a half ago, Sarah Molson was curious. From the outside, the stone statue of a woman in flowing garments, extending her arms as if to embrace any wayfarer with a soft warm hug lead the blue haired girl to ask what this place was. That was when she met father Jonkins, who was currently opening his eyes slowly and standing up from his knelt over position in front of the altar.

With the light of the outside now upon him, father Jonkins’ bald head was revealed to the world. In fact, the only hair he had was that of the white eyebrows that still had yet to shed away. With a slow, calm stride, he approached the girl with dark-blue hair.

She looked up to him, her stature barely over five feet in height meant she had to look upwards to look at the vicar. When she made eye contact, her blues eyes meeting his brown, she bowed her head slightly. “Good day, Father Jonkins,” she greeted.

The priest’s smile did not fade as he spoke in a friendly tone, “Sarah,” he said in a welcoming tone, “I am saddened to remind you that bowing is entirely unnecessary,” he said with a hint of displeasure, “as I’ve told you many times before, all are equal within the house of the Lord.”

Sarah, however, shook her head, “That would be rude. You are a wise, elderly man, and must be respected as such.”

It was at this point that the vicar’s smile widened, “Truly then, you would respect my wishes, would you not?”

The blue haired girl nodded, for the man of the cloth was reasonable, as he always seemed to be, in her mind. “My apologies, father.”

To this, the man of the cloth shook his head with a neutral gaze upon his face, “and another thing,” he began, “why are you so formal with me?” he paused for only a second, not letting the blue haired child reply, “do you speak this way to your parents, or maybe your brother?”

Sarah knew that she did not, and the vicar did as well. The fact remained though that she had a good reason for it. “Phillip is an idiot!” she spat with a bit too much force.

The holy man shook his head, “you don’t mean that, Sarah. I know you don’t. I have met your brother before, and despite his miserable demeanor, he is rather intelligent.”

“He badmouths religion and asks questions,” she stated, a bit angrier than the situation would have deemed necessary, “you’re not supposed to question the teachings of religion!”

In response, the robed man shook his head, and then spoke, “Incorrect! Personally, I think questioning something is the most useful way to decipher its true meaning and purpose,” Larry replied, imparting his sagely wisdom, “and I must say, for one his age, his questions are rather thought provoking.”

“But...” the girl began, unsure of how to word herself, “wait, what does demeanor mean?”

“Demeanor is basically another word for behavior. Are you feeling okay, Sarah? You seem a bit stressed, if I may say so myself,” the vicar observed.

The girl nodded in response. “Yes, I am stressed, Father!”

The man frowned slightly at the girl’s honest response, “I see. Would you like to talk about it?”

Sarah nodded, and proceeded to explain her dilemma. “Father, I have sinned.”

“I see...” Father Jonkins noted, “I guess that you’re here for the confessional?”

“Yes, Father. It is why I am here.” She nodded. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the enclosed booth that she would go into alone. The only source of light and air to the dismalness of the confessional was a small hole by the top of the door, as well as a window that connected it to yet another small room directly to its left. As silly as it sounded, this window was not clear, and in fact was built of closely knit patterns of thin metals. It was, as Sarah had been told, was supposed to be used so the priest at the other end would remain blurred and an unclear vision. It was said that a confessional was meant to be a window to God itself.

The father laughed as he glanced about his empty chapel. What point would the confessional serve if there was nobody in sight to eavesdrop on the conversation? “Why don’t you just sit down right here and you can explain everything to me right now?”

Sarah eyed father Jonkins oddly. “You’re breaking sacred traditions,” she noted warily. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“Traditions? Confessionals are mostly used to ensure a greater amount of privacy when churches are filled with many ears to listen in on our personal problems,” the priestly man explained, as he took a seat in the seat nearest to where he stood. He sighed as he sat down, “I don’t know what possessed me to accept this job other than the appeal of foreign lands, and the eagerness to spread the word of the Lord.”

Sarah felt an uneasiness fill her stomach as she sat down next to the man of the cloth. She hated hearing about Father Jonkins’ loneliness and discontent. “I... I’m sorry for bringing it up,” she stammered, ashamed with her guilt trip.

The priest shook his head, “it was me who brought it up, all because I’ve been thinking of the future of my work here, or if I should move and try my luck in other towns, or even other regions of Mongolia.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly in fear. This was the first that she had ever heard the vicar mention such a plan as to leave town. “Why?” she asked with a somewhat selfish concern, only to be met with a nod, “But... but I need you here! I’ll have sins that need confession in my future, and I’ll need time to pray!”

Again, the vicar shook his head, “Truly if you need to talk over your problems, I’m sure your father will be understanding enough to talk them over with you. As for prayer, well, you can do that anywhere in private if you so desire.”

With a nod and a frowned, the blue haired girl said “I see,” but much to her dismay, she did not want Father Jonkins to leave, not when she had so much stress and few people who she felt she could relate to on a common level. “Father Jonkins, I told a lie, and it got someone else in trouble.”

The priest nodded. “Tell me what happened, Sarah, would you?”

With a nod, the girl complied. “I have lied to my broth...”

Sike Saner

15th March 2006, 7:42 AM

Today (well, technically yesterday; tis after midnight now), I told myself that I would read this, ALL OF IT, tonight.

And so, I gathered up my entire System Of A Down collection and some Black Cherry Vanilla Coke, sat down, and did just just that.

Yes, I know that I had said "tonight", and I'd technically said it yesterday...but as it's still night, perhaps I can still call it tonight...

So. I've gotta say, that was a pretty danged entertaining few hours spent here. The the unconventionality (is that a word?? Hmm...) and the humor were what held my attention at first, and then as the story progressed, I found myself getting even deeper into it.

..."getting deeper into it"...Is it just me, or does that sound kinda...impure somehow...

Neh, tis probably just me. MOVING ON...

Easily the thing I like best here are the characters....especially one in particular. GUESS WHO. Yes, tis Jimmy. Oh, frelling frell frell...that guy's just fooking boss. I instantly fell for his obnoxiousness and randomness in the early chapters, because I just adore randomness. As well as the word "WHEE". Egods, that's a whimsical word. ^^ And then, following his reform, when he was all sad and timid and broken...awwwww! I just wanted to hug him....fragile, crying boys are cute. ;D

...okay, I will admit that that was pretty damned creepy.

Yeah.

So, proceeding...The Pokémon characters please me, too (dammit all to fecking heck, why do I keep saying things that sound inappropriate?!...). I notice that as the story progresses, you're developing the Pokémon as characters more. I mean, we've got Spinarak, who has earned both the ^____^ face and the O_o;;; face from me - how many things can do that? Then there's that Rattata, that misogynistic rat *******... XPPPP Totodile has shown a great deal of personality in ch. 18; I came to like her quite swiftly thereafter. Plus, the Hounds; you did a great job on them as characters. ^^

And as for "Me", whatever that thing actually is...

*shudders for minutes on end*

...yeah. XD

Oh, and I have to comment on your invented Pokémon, because I dig 'em. (I shouldn't have phrased it like that. Now I want a bowl of Smacks, and I don't have any, dammit... >.<) You have the Oni and those sword-creatures, which are damned cool; you have a legendary Pokémon WHOSE FLATULENCE TRANSCENDS SPACE AND TIME, which is so boss that words can't describe it; and then...there is the unparalleled Fudgie. That made me do a double-take...it's brownie-like...and yet...it seemed quite at home whilst in the sewer...fitting in nicely with all the...er, "brownies" of the other sort... o_o ...HAIL FUDGIE!

And now...here comes a ginormous *** load of quotes!!! Just little things that stood out to me or that I particualrly enjoyed for any of an assortment of fla...I mean, reasons...uh...SO HERE!

Next to it, an orange, baby chicken stood with beady black eyes and a lithe form, shaped like the flame of a lit candle wafting calmly in the wind.

I like that description.

“So that means… it doesn’t matter what Pokemon he has! Damnit!” Phil growled at this realization. “Maybe I can still catch him and switch! I can get rid of this murderer and be done with…” he blinked… Busted! Caught! Pwned! Abort mission! All your base are belong to us!

That is a bona fide LOL moment, right there. XDDD

Considering that its not even been twenty-four hours yet and life seemed to suddenly suck spherical objects, it’s a surprise he was still alive.

"Suck spherical objects"...I love that. ^^

With a sigh, it looked about. The purple sphere’s life was a sham. How it despised and feared the human who had it leashed, but never would it wish to return to the wilds. It was far too gone from that life now. Its life was now for that amongst humanity, and despite the odd and lacking style of love, affection, and care received, the spherical one would never return to amongst its kin in freedom. Something was pulling at its sickly, gas filled heart towards the ways of humanity and travel. As it looked down towards its human commander, its eyes widened, and would have had its mouth wide in shock, had it the facial muscles to muster more than a smile.

Awww...I just wanna hug that Koffing...

...oh, wait...

...no, that'd probably smell pretty ****ing awful, actually. XP

Okay, well....Just tell the Koffing I send my love, then. XD

Before he could react to anything, he was nailed! Bull’s-eyed quite effectively… with a pie. Of all things to be attacked with as a mess of gooey fruit, dairy and bread crust melded into one big pie face.

I LOVE PIE SPLATS IN THE FACE!!! ^_____^

Just thought I'd let you know that. :3

“My Lasagna!” screamed the chef. “WWWH…” he caught himself as Phillip’s eyes threatened to melt the sun into three liters worth of ashes, which would also be melted, especially because ashes don’t form from melting, especially from a giant nuclear solar body like the sun.

He was not angry so to say, Phillip Molson was freaking ****** to be blunt! “Don’t SAY IT!”

XDDDDDDD

“My brother found the lasagna! Oh no!”

Oh, Lord...I'm not sure why I love that line as much as I do, but...God, I love it. XD

Suffice to say, if he had to hear WHEE or that accursed laugh much longer, then butcher knives would rain like hellfire upon all…

I like that sentence a lot, too. ^^

The demon’s eyes shifted to a sinister smirk, <Don’t worry, you are higher on my hate list.>

“Good for me!” replied Lugia with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever.

XD

“Phil, please, don’t.” The words were soft-spoken, a tone seemingly unbefitting for the chaos of the room. “Is this really want you want?” to which Phil gave her a look of irritated nature.

“No…” he replied, faux generosity dripping from his every word so blatantly, “I want to love his sexy body and make sweet, GOD DAMNED BABIES!”

I just love Phil's line there...

He is, after all, unique, as am I, for you see, we were both born with the ability to breathe fire. I’m not too sure how. My mother died some time before I hatched, and apparently, from my genetics, my son has attained my power.

This is hardly a bad thing to have, but most other rattata are wary of us for this simple fact. I’m not sure where I got it, but it certainly helps me fight, and Pidgey taste better when they’re medium rare, and they’re healthier too.

That last sentence got a nice little chuckle out of me. ^^

Moltres, rolled its eyes. <I hate to ruin your fun,> The bird outright lied, indeed glad for this fact. <Well, I’m, as humans have come to call us, a legendary...> The bird paused, as its eyes narrowed in a sharper, sterner gaze. <That means I don’t have genitals!>

I will never look at the word "legendary" in the same way again. XD

Moltres’ eyes shot open. Faces... that word struck deep within the confines of the bird’s skull. <Could it be... wait, me? Me... against the Oni of Kertonmel?>

“No, I not going. You fighting the Four or Five DUH!” ‘Me’ stated obviously.

I can't believe that it took me a moment to get that joke... XD

“Now leave me alone! The Unsoggable Milk should be on tonight if I’m not mistaken.”

With that, he swiftly lunged for the channel changer, and aimed it for the TV. With a few clicks of the numbers on the changer, he had reached his destination. From the TV, Phil heard a loud, enraged voice. ‘Milk Splash!’ yelled a man that was way too white of skin. Literally, he was the color of milk.

Gina however, did not like his lack of attention at all. A reasonable cause to be angry, of course. In a swift motion, she grabbed the remote from Phil’s hand, and clicked the off button, just as what appeared to be a bottle of chocolate syrup was about to hit the milky man on the TV screen. “Do you mind?”

“I sure do!” Phil said with disdain. “This is the part where Dr. Choctopus infuses the Milk with Syrupy radiation!”

Hey, it's another excerpt in which Phil's last line kicks ***! ^^ Seriously, I just love stuff like that - I kinda wish I could watch The Unsoggable Milk...

“Right...” replied Phil in a most pompous tone. “I don’t really care, to be honest. By the way, you can cook a good bratwurst.”

Another one of those cases where I'm not sure quite why I like it as much as I do, but there it is. ^^

‘Oh thit!’ he yelled, his voice was of course, uncensored here, even though his word was exactly just one letter too far to become a fecal swear word.

XDDDDDDDDD "Thit"...

The sight of large grass, tall trees, and colorful flowers of reds, and yellows reminded him of peace and tranquility. “Doesn’t this all make you want to puke?” he asked in a relaxed tone, and an evil smile on his face.

XD Awesome.

Gina was about ready to claw her way out of here and trample down the entire city, simply to get away from this creepy pink haired weirdo. “No, I don’t want to go with you and eat your stinkin’ candy!”

The male with pink hair chuckled loudly at that statement. “Ha! I’d actually prefer you’d eat my bratwurst.” he smiled, noticing the angry look on the girl’s face before changing the subject swiftly.

...

*makes appalled expression, mouth agape*

*holds this expression for over a minute*

*then bursts into laughter* XDDDDDDD

The Pidgey laughed, as it swiftly sprung back into the air. It clenched its right talons tightly, and revealed its central talon. In short, the Pidgey was flipping him the bird.

XDDDDDDD Even as an "ex-psycho", Jimmy proves that he's still got the power to make verbal magic. Gods be, I love that guy... ^^

If it bleeds, it can be killed, or used to entertain. If it cries, it can be silenced forever, or become a symphony of nirvana. If it begs for death... well, don’t let it get what it wants, or else you wouldn’t be a cold-hearted bastid... and I... well, I’m a prick. It feels good to be rotten!
-Spookoni, A Lesson in Art of Pain and Torture

I like the personalities you've given all the Oni that have been showcased so far...but Spookoni just takes the cake. ^^ I love that guy. Sadism... <3

...WHY CAN'T I STOP SAYING CREEPY THINGS?!?!?!?!?...

._.

To this, the dinosaur eyed the bird, as it trembled to get back to its feel from the recent attack, and pulled from its voice box the scariest roar it could muster. The result was a bit too adorable to be useful, and in the end, the lizard wound up sounding like an elderly woman at a ho-down, screaming at the very top of her lungs, but of course, it was twenty times less shrill, and twenty times younger in age. Regardless of grandma’s screamin’ good time, the growl did not have the terror inflicting effect it was meant to have.

I really like that paragraph...especially the "grandma's screamin' good time" part. XDDD

“I’d say we had a fun fight, sexy, even if I was distracted by your small assets.”

Gina’s response was a mix between a scowl and a sigh, which sounded pretty quirky, in the end. “Would you shut the fu...” she paused midway through her anger. “Small?”

*giggle-snort*

<Fight?> I hear the creature ask in a fearful tone. It’s not as though the human can understand it, poor creature. <Don’t hit me!> it yells.

AWWWWWW! Oh, now I wanna hug that Spinarak really badly! And I bet it would smell better than hugging the Koffing, too!

...I feel kinda bad for saying that about the Koffing, actually... =(

<I eat bugs for breakfast!> I hiss to the small bug, still a few feet away from me.

The reaction the spider provides is not what I was hoping for. <Really?> It asks with an odd sense of interest, <So do I!> It sounds happy.

ROFL! I loved that. ^^

Maybe I should end my role as narrator. I suppose you are bored listening to the words of a mere rat. Besides that, I really must focus on the task at hand, rather than talk to myself in such a manner, wouldn't you think?

Which earned another nice little chuckle from me. ^^

Suffice to say, however, that the short man with blue hair long enough to reach his shoulders had other things on his mind. In fact, snugged around his ears, and pushing back his slightly curly hair was a pair of headphones, whereupon he was rocking out on his shiny, invisible air guitar!

XD Now that's an image! XPPPPPPP

The air guitarist nodded. “Sure thing, dude.”

Spookoni rolled its red eyes at the human’s statement. “Don’t call me dud!” it snapped angrily. How dare this insignificant creature call a legend that could end its life without even a second thought a ‘dud.’

LMAO!

The rat was now struggling to get back to its feet. <T... take me...> it stammered, <take me now!>

The gator gave a face of pure disgust as its healthy hand grasped itself around the bleeding wound. <You’re a hypocrite that shows your true, twisted colors! Sorry, but I don’t think I’m into being dominated by incompatible jerks. I’d rather hump a Bellsprout!>

Ooh, burn! XDDD

As Phil’s eyes skimmed the words carefully and thoughtfully, Verick looked on hopefully, as he noticed Phil’s prize blue gator hop up onto the rock, and stood next to the seated Viking. As it did, Verick ran his hand along the back of its head, as though he were petting a cat and scratching it behind its ears.

The beast felt a surge of wonder and comfort, even as it held its still bleeding arm. <Oh man! If I could mate with humans, I would so do you fifty times over before the end of the hour!>

...

O_o;;;

...wow. XDDDDDDDDDD

Now, there were also a drenload of Jimmy quotes of boundless pwnage that could have been included with the above...so why weren't they? So's I could give good ol' Jimmy his own little showcase. :3

Oh, and do go ahead and put me on that PM list. I'm following a LOT of fics right now, and notification would definitely help me to keep track of things. ^^

Well, now that I'm done boring you into catatonia with this painfully long, quote-bloated review, I shall depart now. See you next chapter, then. *vanishes in poof of smoke - or tries to* Uh... o_o;;; *walks hurriedly away amid the dissipating vapors of the craptastic magic trick*

Dilasc

2nd June 2006, 7:18 PM

Sike Saner: You actually took the time to read this? Well, I'm glad you liked it, and Jimmy too. Then again, most people like Jimmy anyways. I'll do a read return... it may take a long while though.

Well, this is not what you've all been waiting for. This is not a new chapter! It is only a preview. I have been away for so long, and I do not want to risk falling into the obscurity of time by not letting the fact that I'm still be writing be known.

It is with great pleasure that I present a preview of my next chapter: Dinner and a Moving

It was at this point that the pink creature with vestigial wings decided to speak up, <Who do you think you are?> Unlike the floating mantra and their human trainer, the winged pink wonder did not seem to share in the Viking accent that made them unique. It’s words seemed fluid and the voice seemed male.

<I am a rattata with a complicated past, but if you’re looking for a name, then call me Dar’kankst.> The rat replied, feeling a slight regret at letting the nearby creatures hear its name. <If that’s too much, I suppose that Dar would be acceptable. To be honest though, I’d prefer never to talk to any of you unless an utter emergency.> Still, it was certainly better than being called ‘rat’ all the time. <Now, what the hell are you,> Dar asked the pink creature, <and how come your accent isn’t that like your friend’s or your human taskmaster’s?>

Seijiro Mafuné

2nd June 2006, 10:25 PM

And... you update this, only to show that it was a preview?

Why, oh why do you have to deceive us?

*sighs*

Oh well, boredom afflicts me. Hoping it comes up soon.

Dilasc

4th June 2006, 5:27 AM

Relax! This very post is a new chapter! I feel thou

Well, it’s a new chapter! Huzza! I know its been a long delay, but I think Stella has her groove back again. Well, as for me, Dilasc, I think I might be getting back in the swing of writing, and of course, your feedback keeps the swing going even faster!

Dust to Deceit

As I look back on my life, and on the lives of those around me, many questions come to my mind, and go as I find answers. Yet, even as a philosopher, I feel most attached to this one saying: The world would be a better place if we all just got laid.
-Memoirs of a Russian Prophet, 1687

Chapter 19 - Dinner and a Moving

With great disbelief, Phillip Molson could not believe what he was doing. Settled in for the encroaching night, after many miles of travel, the idea of cooking a TV dinner, impaled through a stick, over an open fire was probably the last thing he’d have thought of doing. Yet, his redheaded, Viking friend Verick was busily cooking his dinner over the flames, waiting until the meat with a side of vegetable dish was cooked for just long enough. Heck, the instructions even gave a proper time to roast upon the spit. It was something that Phillip did not even realize could be done, or rather, it was something he never fathomed that he himself would find himself undertaking.

All that unimportantly important information aside, Phil was grateful for the presence of his Viking partner. The thing was, he had no clue that the redhead was even carrying a bag filled with meals waiting to be heated, let alone held any food whatsoever. It was as though the bag had appeared out of nowhere, and the only logical reason that Phil could find to support it was that his mind was too focused on himself to notice. It was needless to say though, that with Phil’s awkward sense of looming dramatic irony, he had a feeling that the bag appeared in the universe simply to sate the needs of the universe’s ability to move forward and to plot the course of the future.

Perhaps he was tired, and maybe a bit paranoid, but Phillip Molson had to question the very existence of himself and the universe around him, as though the world around him were just a preordained script that had no idea where its destiny truly began and ended. Even as he talked to his dad about this, all he would be told is that he worried way too much, and that life was simply the work of subatomic particles, and that everything that happened was based on theories of probability and chance.

“Za food’s almost ready, ya!” the redhead stated, as he twirled the plastic dish covered in wrapping carefully over the flames that burned below. They had been walking for hours, and Verick Dunsurth had an odd sense of fear when it came to Phillip Molson and his many strange words. He spoke as though human interaction was not something he practiced on a daily basis; as though his life were a staged drama or an epic novel, and every word had to have the passion worthy of a grand trophy. All in all, it scared him somewhat, though not in the sense that Phil was going to hurt him or threaten his life, but in the sense that he was just so different than most everyday people.

While Verick cooked, Phillip brooded in pain. He could not understand the way that most people could enjoy the contentment of simpler life, and how they went day by day remaining the nobodies they were. They would never realize that they would die the same way they were lived: simple, forgettable and above all else, they would die alone. The way things were going, Phil would share the fate of the masses and be reduced to a, dare it be said, a normal life, and as he thought, he wanted. He always wanted, whether it were power, fame, or control, he wanted. Above all else, he wanted to be wanted and loved by the world, and at the same time, he didn’t want to have to do a damned thing to earn it.

“Verick,” Phil began. As he noticed his friend’s gaze turn to him, he spoke again, “do you ever feel as though you could want, or maybe even need more from life?”

As the evening dusk spread the sky around them, Verick thought, and about a second later, he had an answer. “No, vhy should I demand more vrom life?”

Phillip sighed. Having been angry to the point of insanity only yesterday, he didn’t quite feel like unleashing another tantrum so soon. “Well, just because! Do you need to have a reason?”

“I do if you ask me a question, do I not?” the Viking replied, not waiting for the answer that would never come as either a yes or a no, “and vesides, I have all zat I could ever vant. I haf a lovink mother, and a younger sister.”

Phil tilted his head at this, as his curiosity made him want to pry, “uh, a dad?”

Verick’s head tilted downwards to the grass and dirt below, as he shook it side to side. As his head shaking stopped, he looked up again, “he ist in Valhalla...” he trailed, his reply weak and pained.

“Oh, divorce,” Phil rationalized, “I sure hope he returns some day.” In spite of his selfish demeanor, he did have a heart, as much as he wanted the world to revolve around him, he did feel bad for those who lacked the things he did, and couldn’t stand the feeling of pity that he didn’t want to feel.

“No, Valhalla ist the afturlife,” the Viking replied bluntly, wishing that the subject had never been brought up at all, “my father died three yers ago.”

Phil grimaced, unaware of how rude he had been, and he certainly hated looking stupid. “Oh, erm... sorry,” he managed to stammer out amongst his slight case of humility, “I didn’t know.”

With a sigh, Verick replied as calmly as he could to the Mongolian’s apology, “vell ya, jyou didn’t know. As long as you never make fun, I vill understand.”

Phil grumbled, the feeling of understanding and the ability to open up with new people confused him. “Look, I understand. Just... let’s just let the subject drop, okay?”

“Da, I will,”replied the Viking in an understanding tone. “So... uh, vhat kinds of tings do you like, Phillip?”

At the mention of something as serious as mentioning his own interests and having interactions, Phil felt oddly threatened, or at least nervous about talking about himself. Either way, his response was simple, “I’d rather not talk right now, if it’s alright with you.”

“Erm, okay,” Verick replied, unsure of any other way to honestly reply to that which he had just been told. Instead of pressing the question by trying to ask it again, Verick instead just replied, “Ze vood ist almost ready, ya!”

With that, the Viking quickly grabbed two spheres of red and white, and in a swift motion, both appeared to split in half, revealing the beasts inside. Though Phil wanted to question why Verick was calling upon his servant beasts right then and there, curiosity overcame him as he looked over the two beasts before him. First, there was a small pinkish beast. Its appearance, dare he say it, was ‘cute’, which in turn was a bit sickening. Its ears, or so those small points with black colored skin seemed certainly looked strange as well, and as he looked at the creatures back, he noticed a curly tail and a pair of wings. Phil knew what this creature was, or at the very least, had a good idea. It was a Clefairy, a beast believed to come from the moon, or at the very least, some far place beyond the sky. The Mongol would have questioned the Viking’s sexuality if it weren’t for the fact that he had the impression that the redhead had a fascination with the stars above, and thus had a clear enough slate to avoid any queer suspicion.

Much the opposite of what he had just seen was Verick’s next pokemon. The best word he could use to describe this orange beast with what appeared to be was a manta ray. As it floated in place, Phil looked at the two pairs of fins flapping to the wind, while its tail seemed to pulse with a blue glow. Phil, again, could have sworn he knew what this creature was. “Is this a Mantraray?”

“Dya!” Verick replied with a bobbing nod. As he did, he glanced at Phillip, a quizzical look on his face. “Vell, it’s time to eat, aren’t you goink to feed zem?”

Phil looked at him quizzically, “Who, me? Yea, I’m going to eat. I mean, it is a fried chicken dish...”

To this, the dramatic Mongolian found himself taken aback, as his eyes widened. “Wait, Pokemon actually need to eat at regular intervals?” A simple nod replied to him.

Verick’s face took on the appearance as though he were seeing something stupid, and thus he replied, “Duh! Zey need vood as much as you do, and some eat evon more zan yjou do.”

With a grunt of discontent, Phillip replied, “Why I would feed slaves often, I don’t know, but I guess it’ll shut you up to feed them, and who knows, maybe whatever gods and story writers that live out there will find something interesting in their sick and twisted minds!” His gaze fell directly on Verick, “hey! You’re a writer! Get the notepad out and make me famous.”

Though Phillip’s voice was calm, strangely enough, and not demanding, Verick felt a strange loss of safety should he refuse to comply to the hopeful yet misguided wannabe actor. As such, with a sigh, he grabbed for his writing pad. “Ya think you’d make more friends vith a vriendly attitude, do ja think?”

Phil shrugged, not entirely paying attention, as he unleashed his Pokeballs into the air, swiftly enough, three creatures emerged from their containment within. The blue gator with a hunter’s grace, the vengeful rodent father, and the gullible spider. The spider’s first reaction was to glance up at his human master, and the anger upon his human master’s face made his six legs quiver in fear. He did not want to have those legs ripped off. The spider knew well that if his legs were removed, they would not grow back.

While the spider glanced about in fear, the rat greeted the outside world with a ratty hiss, with his face directly facing the blue gator. <You again?!> he snarled at the lady gator.

With a calm demeanor, the Totodile replied, <It was your choice to lose.>

<Yep,> added the spider with a slight nod of its head, <you practically begged to lose.>

With a turn of its head, the Rattata mumbled angrily. Its eyes fixated upon the two pokemon it had not yet seen. His first target of interest was the orange beast that floated so lightly off the ground. <What the heck are you?>

With a calm tone in its voice, the orange beast replied. <Hallo thar stranger, my name ist Belvindar.>

The rat rolled its eyes twice before chittering its teeth and speaking once again. <You’re a nobody, and worse yet, you sound like a woman. I asked what you are by specie, not by personal, and unimportant name.>

With a look lacking concern, the floating creature replied with as calm a response as her first statement, <I am a Mantraray, ya!>

The rat exhaled a mighty breath, scattering some of the dirt at the edge of his front paws. <That’s nice...> he replied while trailing, his voice not filled with the anger of before. Instead, his words were a bit less sincere, <then again, I don’t really give a Mankey’s anus. Your voice and accent really just grate at my nerves, and quite frankly, I’m low on nerves.>

It was at this point that the pink creature with vestigial wings decided to speak up, <Who do you think you are?> Unlike the floating mantra and their human trainer, the winged pink wonder did not seem to share in the Viking accent that made them unique. It’s words seemed fluid and the voice seemed male.

<I am a rattata with a complicated past, but if you’re looking for a name, then call me Dar’kankst.> The rat replied, feeling a slight regret at letting the nearby creatures hear its name. <If that’s too much, I suppose that Dar would be acceptable. To be honest though, I’d prefer never to talk to any of you unless an utter emergency.> Still, it was certainly better than being called ‘rat’ all the time. <Now, what the hell are you,> Dar asked the pink creature, <and how come your accent isn’t that like your friend’s or your human taskmaster’s?>

<I’m not of this planet. The trivialities of tone and accentuation are meaningless to my species, as our kind reaches many planets and must communicate with many different languages.>

The rat rolled its eyes, distasteful of the smug sense of superiority that the alien creature felt. Yet, before the rat could reply, the spidery rapist spoke up. <If you’re so adept at linguistics, how come you can’t talk to humans?>

At this, the pink faerie could not think of any way to answer this without enduring the figurative egg that would be upon its face, <I didn’t say I could speak all languages, just that I could understand them, and thus, I can understand any human language spoken, no matter where they come from,> the fairy responded, though it felt as though it were not enough of an explanation. <Actually...> it began again, <my kind can understand almost any language in the universe.>

It was at this point that the Totodile felt the urge to intervene. Though she had been listening for a few minutes, she had remained quiet simply to avoid any negative interaction with a certain sexist rat. With a deep breath, she asked her question, <How do you know all of this about your species? Have you yourself travelled beyond the moon where you are supposed to come from?>

The pink creature shook its head, while a certain purple rat growled audibly at the fact that the womanly gator dared to speak in the presence of the greater gender. <No, I am from Norway, just like Verick and Belvindar. I do not think that Clefairy kind has ever...>

<Woman!> the rat interrupted, swiftly leaping towards the gator who dared to speak,<what part of ‘know your place’ do you not understand?> he asked while snarling with great disgust. <The MEN are talking, stay out of our business and be a good little girl like Belhead there.>

The mantra beast’s eyes focused upon the crude mouthed rodent, <Dar’kankst,> the fishy creature said, trailing for a dramatic emphasis. Unfortunately, this pause was just long enough for the rat to interrupt.

The rat snarled, as it seemed to be doing ever since its introduction, and spoke, wishing it were tall enough to actually look down upon the larger beast in question. <Well,> it stated with a very slight amount of surprise, <you had the brains to remember my name, yet the balls to speak to me as an equal.>

The Pokemon spoke to one another in a language of repetition that humans could not understand, which left Phillip looking down at the odd antics that the Pokemon enacted with a case of true indifference. “Sometimes I wonder if Pokemon are capable of greater intelligence. All they do is eat and mate and fight our battles like good and loyal pets.”

Verick shook his head, his eyes narrowed with a sense of misunderstanding. Clearly, he disagreed with the Mongol and his narrowminded view of the world around him. “No vay! I doubt thot very much!”

“How so? Do you honestly think Pokemon can compare to the likes of Albert Ramstein, Calligula, Rob Lincoln, Genghis Khan, or even.. . yours truly?” Phillip asked with emphasis pouring through his every word. It was as though the boy thought he were in at least a B quality movie, and the world revolved only around the world at which he took the center stage. “I think you should explain yourself.”

“Well...” Verick paused, not too sure how he would word this in a way that would make the Molson boy understand. With that in mind, his thoughts quickly shifted to the odd question that Phillip presented, “Vait, who’s Ramstein?”

Phillip decided not to answer. “Don’t change the subject on me!” he snapped, turning his head away from the Norseman with a snobbishly childish attitude.

“Vhat?” the Norseman found himself asking. Phillip had to have been toying with his mind, he just had to have been. There was no way a person could be quite so ignorant, or stubborn and mean every bit of the charade that they were putting on, all to show off a bit of very poor acting skills. This only led Verick to think even further on the issue. Who exactly was Phillip trying to impress in the middle of a forest uninhabited by humans? Surely, this odd Mongolian boy felt that the ability to act on a stage was so important that he had no choice but to eat, sleep, and breathe at the orders of a script or plot point. “Ja know vwhat, fine! Iv you vant to be a jerk, zen so be it! I vill not talk to you until jyou calm down!”

This outburst on the part of redhead gave Phillip the incentive to turn around. However, the Mongolian’s response was not what he was expecting it to be, “What the heck did you just say?” Phil asked, anger seethed in his voice, mostly at the fact that the boy was fed up with all his bad luck, and needed to find an outlet to release his inner rage upon. “Good god, lose the accent! Talk normally!” Upon completion of his venting, he paused, taking a deep, two second long breath in order to calm his great rage as best he could. The results soothed his disgruntled spirit, but in no way shape or form did it solve all of Phillip’s problems.

At that, Verick simply put his free hand to his face, as he sat there, his other hand holding the stick with the TV dinner that was going to be their evening meal. Of course, how he managed to hold such a heavy thing impaled within a stick for such an extended period of time was a mystery enough as is. Regardless, as far as the workings of the universe and the laws of gravity were concerned, this feat was but a small grain of salt amongst the big scheme of the universe. It was suffice to say though, that the universe wasn’t very balanced or orderly if Hydrogen happened to be the flavor of the eternity, but that’s in and of itself is an entirely different story.

As he humans chatted on, they remained oblivious to the chatter of their Pokemon who watched. The blue gator smiled as she stared at the Viking. <That man talks in a way I have trouble comprehending,> she stated, causing Dar to raise his eyebrows with agitation, <but he knows how to please a woman,> she cooed dreamily. The only thing keeping her from the euphoria of a soothing back rub was the fact that the human was holding a plastic tray in his hands. It wasn’t to say that the Totodile knew what plastic even was, but one thing she did know for sure was that inside the tray, there was meat, and meat was a very good thing to eat.

As the rat silently growled in frustration, he glanced about where the humans had camped out for the evening. Although he didn’t care very much about any of his companions at all, he did notice one thing out of place. <Where’s the pest?> he asked, not really caring for the sake of the actual creature. One thing truly mattered as far as the power hungry avenger was concerned, a missing Pokemon would probably mean a long search by humans, which would inevitably lead to delay, which in turn would cause a delay to the events of the universe unfolding the events that needed to befall the rat in order to attain power. Suffice to say, such power was merely a means to end the vendetta against his son. It was clear though that the rat didn’t especially like those who he had to work with. Heck, every time the lesser woman gator opened her mouth, his blood boiled, and the hell spawned inferno that raged in his gene pool felt itself come alive.

<You’re standing right there,> the gator stated with a slightly venomous tone, <of course, you’re technically not able to look directly at your pesky self without a river’s reflection.>

With an angered stare, he ignored her crude comment as best as he could, and instead opted to return to the subject matter at hand. <I’m talking about the spider, you stupid *****.>

At that, the crocodilian diva glanced around, though as she did, she muttered a few words of questionable meaning. It was clear though that these words were spoken in a low tone, not meant to be heard for many possible reasons. <Well, he is better company than you, even if he is a bit offbeat. Still, if you’re so worried, we’ll go find him.>

The rat hadn’t even let the gator finish speaking before wandering off. With a swish of its purple tail, Dar had wandered off into the forest, his keen rat survival senses listening for the sound of the simpleminded spider with his simpleminded life goals. <You’re too slow woman!> the purple beast hissed, as his claws dug into the side of a tree, and from there, the rat slowly climbed upwards, its whiskered nose twitching as he searched.

At this, the gator scowled, wishing she could do something about the rat’s sexist attitude, preferably with sharp, circumcising claw carvings. With the thought putting a smile on her face, she glanced about. Phillip and the foreign wonder boy were engrossed in some strange human conversation that made no sense to the gator gal. The Viking’s two Pokemon also seemed uninterested, though Belvindar did widen her eyes with acknowledgment when the gator stared at her. <Ya let his vords bother ya, yet he is proberbly bothered in vays ya cannot understand, ya,> she stated, having watched the two creatures take any opportunity to bring misery to the other. <Tell me... vhat ist yar name?>

The gator sighed, and with a slight nod, introduced herself the way she should have almost an hour ago. <My name is Purizz... I must apologize for not mentioning it sooner.>

<No need,> the manta with four flaps replied, <I suppos’ ya vant help finding da spider?> Though the beast did not have an easy to spot mouth, the gator could tell from the subtle muscle movements on the orange beast’s face. <I vill help yow, ya! I can’t say da same about Rivdiank here,> the manta ray stated, her not too flexible head shifting slightly to face the pink skinned wonder, who seemed to have dozed off for some unknown reason, <vhatever ist up with him... still, I will help you.>

The gator lady smiled, <Thank you,> neck tilet fo shall we began?>

<Thank you,> Purizz replied with a sigh of relief, as she turned a bit to the left and began to walk off.

Sike Saner

4th June 2006, 9:22 PM

Random little highlights:

Yet, before the rat could reply, the spidery rapist spoke up.

“Spidery rapist”…I like that phrase, in a weird way. XD

“How so? Do you honestly think Pokemon can compare to the likes of Albert Ramstein, Calligula, Rob Lincoln, Genghis Khan, or even.. . yours truly?” Phillip asked with emphasis pouring through his every word. It was as though the boy thought he were in at least a B quality movie, and the world revolved only around the world at which he took the center stage. “I think you should explain yourself.”

“Well...” Verick paused, not too sure how he would word this in a way that would make the Molson boy understand. With that in mind, his thoughts quickly shifted to the odd question that Phillip presented, “Vait, who’s Ramstein?”

XD I actually hadn’t caught that Phil had said “Ramstein” instead of “Einstein” until Verick pointed it out there.

At that, Verick simply put his free hand to his face, as he sat there, his other hand holding the stick with the TV dinner that was going to be their evening meal. Of course, how he managed to hold such a heavy thing impaled within a stick for such an extended period of time was a mystery enough as is.

At this, the gator scowled, wishing she could do something about the rat’s sexist attitude, preferably with sharp, circumcising claw carvings.

To both of the above: XD

That Dar. He really does have a great amount of personality - even if it is a personality that makes me want to kick him. Misogynistic little piece of snake fodder that he is... XD

I like fanmade Pokemon too. At that, it is now time to follow tradition!

If a recent chapter contains a fanmade by yours truly, I will gladly part with some knowledge, in order to help you fair viewers complete your Kertonmel Pokedex! Good fun! Of course, physical descriptions are never given, just the USELESS information, such as type, and if it will be useful later, well, it'll be mentioned in the story. You are not being spoiled.

Mantraray
Name Dervivative: You know what mantra is, right? You don’t? Well then, go look it up! Basically, it’s a manta ray with mantra. Go figure... and don’t ask me if its got anything to do with Mantine or its new baby. They are only alike in that they are manta rays.
Type: Poison/Electric
Evolution/Pre-evos: Yes... that is all.
Abilities: Levitate/Swift Swim

Dilasc

13th July 2006, 6:18 PM

Hey folks, it's preview time! In this up and coming episode of DtD, Spinarak seeks to sate two kinds of hungering urges. Only thing is, he's gonna have to fight for this potentially last meal. Don't forget to review!

Begin Preview!

<If you let me go,> the small bug asked, as the Spinarak stood only a half a foot away from it, <I ensure that you can walk away with your lives.> As it spoke these words, it noticed the spider’s head tilt slightly. This would be a win-win situation.>

The spider shook his head fervently, a counterpoint ready to handle this, or so he believed it justified his words. <You will be carrying my child because I had my way with you. Consider this...> he paused, as he grinned wildly with the mouth that did not show, <a big favor.>

The Weedle shook its head in fear at these words, <The... the Hive They will not like this,> the baby bug struggled to state, <You have tread too close to our territories. They will find you and hunt you down if you don’t turn back now.>

The spider’s head tilted from left to right, his confusion obvious from his lack of fearful reaction to the words that the young victim mentioned. <What’s this hive thing?>

The rat, who had been able to hear all of this, chittered his teeth, slightly unnerved by the thought. <Beedrills!> His eyes widened in fear.

End Preview

Just because I added it, I figure you wonder what a Qweynbee is? Well, its that time again for foriegn Pokedex!

Qweynbee
Name Derivative: Uh, its a queen bee... she leads the hive and stuff.
Type: Bug/Psychic
Evolution/Pre-evolution: Kakuna... the secret to getting your own is out there somewhere. Let's just say that gender doesn't matter, but upon evolution, Qweynbee are always female.
Abilities: Truant

Dilasc

14th July 2006, 8:28 PM

I have one review... it’s official, things have returned to normalcy! God, how I missed it? No really, how can I? I mean, it’s a big factor in what kept me away for so long. Erm, yea... somehow I dunno if I really do miss that part of the big picture. Regardless, here now is your next chapter. Warning, the chapter title gives hints to events which may and likely will be!

Anyways, writing two types of speech patterns with “” for the common human tongue, or <> for Pokemon language and foreign language, I tend to mix them up unintentionally. Now, being the flawed individual that I am who doesn’t quite read over his work too much... I guess I can screw up. Thus, though I try to calm my impatient copy and paste buttons, I can’t help sometimes but to feel edgy. Thus I call to you readers (though small now, time will see growth,) to help me out if you catch this mistake.

If anyone knows the gags that Phillip is getting at, then pat your back or something. What, you expect me to give you a backrub? That costs cash, yo!

Dust to Deceit

Fire, Ice, Water, Arcanum, Electricity, Light, Dark, Spirit, Nature, Earth, Sickness, Wind... these are the twelve elements of the universe. Though they’re hidden to science, those with a mystic eye will notice the true power of these very elements. The very elements of eternity.

-Compendium of Olde Elements, page 25.

Chapter 20 - The Spider Insider

The trees of the Piloth Forest of Kertonmel were not a very tall, but life seemed to flock to them as though they were a small shred of serenity in a barren wasteland. For the most part, that statement was rather true. Though a bit odd to have lush and healthy vegetation amongst the steppes and barren lands of Mongolia, it certainly did have its advantages and disadvantages. It was by far a great place for many woodland creatures to find their home, and to a certain hormonal arachnid, this rule certainly held a great deal of merit.

As the spider climbed the bark of a tree with ease, it knew that a meal and a potential chance to put his jollies to good use was only so far away. It smiled, at least on the inside, with great anticipation as it reached a branch from which it could scan the foliage around him, and pick up the scent of insect blood, and hopefully that of female musk. Regardless, its eyes were keen to the darkening of the evening sky, and the green leaves of the trees did not seem to dim under the bug’s sharp night vision.

The past two days had been strange to the young, nameless spider. First, he had been taken from his home and kicked against a tree by the one of those dreaded creatures that wild creatures fear and misunderstand... humans. This very same human later threatened the spider with threats of bodily dismemberment, the likes of which scared it somewhat. Still, in spite of the terror that the human’s voice instilled, the young spider, something in the spider’s mind gave it a sense of... safety. It were as though the words were mere threats, backed by a guise of falsely sincere agony. Dare it be said, the spider saw the human’s raging as a serious cry for help and attention.

Regardless of his new human, the spider figured that if he were able to get out here alone for a meal and potential quicky, then he could return to the human and avoid having to waste human food on his spidery self. Most importantly, as far as Spinarak was concerned, he couldn’t even potentially have sex with a piece of cooked meat, especially considering how meat was cooked. It would hurt him to even try, especially working on his strong susceptibility to heat and fire, and besides that, it wasn’t enjoyable when the target of the hunt was already dead and handed over on an easy, mundane platter.

A slight rustle and the sound of tiny feet snapped the spider back to reality. Its eyes narrowed, as its pincers clattered together both nervously and eagerly awaiting. The spidery beast was hungry... in more ways than one. Through the green leaves that rustled, the spider caught glimpse of something good. Though its mouth did not have the capability to form a visible smile, the spider was indeed happy, and thrilled at the same time at what it saw. As it caught the scent of the creature, its middle left leg tapped rapidly and lightly upon the sturdy branch that held it up. It was a stroke of luck for the most part, but that was good. Tonight’s meal was female.

That is when the beast began to speak in its native Mongolian Pokemon language, <I can wait no longer,> it shouted, its eyes taking on a blood crazed red tint, as its mandibles began to secrete a slightly venomous drool. <I’m hungry and horny! My jollies haven’t been sated in over five days > His tone was much aghast to his usually calm, and demure tone. Instead, he sounded antsy, rash, and impatient, as his voice seemed to jump to a state of utter insanity.

With a leap that seemed strange to picture being done by a six legged spider, it shouted again amongst its thrilled insanity, <Feed me > At that, it set its eyes upon the bug that stood before it. The usual meal of Weedle. Sure, the spider preferred the taste of a delectable Stethus, even if its steel head was a a bit of a challenge, but Weedle were far more common.

As it lunged at its foe, it landed just off course, and instead of pinning its victim, it landed on the branch along with it. It stared down its wormy victim and took careful note of her appearance. Though to a human eye, the beast only appeared to be a yellow worm, ten segments in length, with dopey black eyes and a large red honker for a nose, the Spinarak was able to get a better feel for the appearance of this poison horned worm, and as far as he was concerned, she looked okay. She wasn’t the best looking Weedle he’d had, and she definitely was far from worst. Perhaps, in all his half a year of life, she was number fifty-four on a mentally kept chart of sexually appealing Weedles.

<Uh...> the Weedle began as its spidery foe encroached upon it, <hi?>

It was scared. That was certain, for the young Weedle knew her life was in trouble, if not about to be over and set an example how the circle of life played itself out wherever nature’s bread lay the seeds of grain... or some sort of proverb of sorts. Regardless, this was not the time for philosophy, considering all that was going to happen. <Please, please don’t kill me,> the young worm begged in her most fearful tone. This was, as far as she figured, going to be the end. <Why must I die?>

The spider’s gaze did not falter, as he began his reply, <you have nothing to offer me, other than your supple young body, which I will take and do whatever I wish with,> he replied, not entirely giving two hecks worth of feces about the creature’s life at all. This was, after all, nature, and the circle of life dictated that the strong hunt the weak in the never-ending story known as Survival of the Fittest.

After unleashing a low chuckle, the spider continued to speak. <Struggle will only prolong my control, so unless you want to be ‘disciplined’ for a long time, I suggest you just give up,> the spider said, grinning on the inside, for without a proper mouth, it could not show it on the outside. That was of course, until the spider realized its legs were caught in a spidery mesh of white string, and that his quarry was diving its caterpillar body away to make as much distance on the hunting spider as fast as possible.

The spider of course, was not thrilled. Not to say he never had been in a situation such as this before. After all was said and done, no victim at all went willingly, other than the suicidal one who he almost decided not to kill simply due to being too easy and being freaked out. Regardless, he would not let his quarry escape.

<Go away,> the Weedle shouted, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. Unfortunately for her, she sounded as though its meek voice hit a great spike of masculine puberty, and was simply a timid male adult. It slithered to the ground and inched away as fast as it could, but a chittering of spidery pincers from not too far behind indicated that the reaper was near and that he would not release his quarry.

<Your life is mine > the spider roared with a pleasure he had not felt in almost a week. For five long days his quarries had not been able to off his jollies to their gender or species. Now, there was no way he would miss out on a meal and the last chance he may ever get to sex up anything for a long, long time. <Get back here and die for my enjoyment >

Now, obviously, all this screaming did not go unheard, especially to the purple rat who had been climbing the tree as best as rat could manage. Suffice to say, as soon as his strong ears picked up the sound, he swiftly leapt down, and landed in the dirt below. As a cloud of tan dust settle around and upon him, he swiftly followed the sounds of screaming. Surely enough, a trek of only a few hundred yards led him to his destination.

The sight he saw was a bit startling, but from what he had been told by the spider earlier that day, it didn’t really come as too big a surprise. In front of him, a Weedle was on the ground, its eyes drooping as though it were tired, and its body desperately trying to escape the grasp of its captor. <Don’t struggle, you die either way,> the spider replied with a slight amount of boredom. His breaths were hard and short, mainly because he too felt a slight fatigue from the slow seepage of his own sexual energies.

It was enough to say that the purple rat had little to actually say. His jaw was wide with a slight amount of shock, since he didn’t quite believe that the pathetic spider had it in him, by which the subject of ‘it’ did not mean anything sexual. <Wow...> he trailed, still unsure if his eyes were not losing their keenness.

This simple, yet well enunciated exhalation on the rat’s part got the spider’s attention as it swiftly turned its head to face the purple rat he had met not even a day ago. <My prey,> the arachnid hissed a bit too quickly, only then realizing that this rat could roast him on the spot. With widening eyes, he cowered slightly, <I mean, please?>

The rat shook his head slightly, <No, I’m not interested in your meal,> the rat replied, almost talking in a condescending tune, but as his eyes wandered away, he noticed a worming motion moving as swiftly as it could along the dirt road, its throat gasping tiredly.

After a few gasps for the fresh air it could not find, it shouted loudly and in an indescribable language that it knew only those with an ear attuned to its sound would truly understand. <You’re going to suffer for this > she yelled, her voice scolding the spider who was frantically skittering after the bug, and gaining on it as its six legs carried it far faster than the Weedle’s wormy body did.

<If you let me go,> the small bug asked, as the Spinarak stood only a half a foot away from it, <I ensure that you can walk away with your lives.> As it spoke these words, it noticed the spider’s head tilt s.lightly. This would be a win-win situation.>

The spider shook his head fervently, a counterpoint ready to handle this, or so he believed it justified his words. <You will be carrying my child because I had my way with you. Consider this...> he paused, as he grinned wildly with the mouth that did not show, <a big favor.>

The Weedle shook its head in fear at these words, <The... the Hive They will not like this,> the baby bug struggled to state, <You have tread too close to our territories. They will find you and hunt you down if you don’t turn back now.>

The spider’s head tilted from left to right, his confusion obvious from his lack of fearful reaction to the words that the young victim mentioned. <What’s this hive thing?>

The rat, who had been able to hear all of this, chittered his teeth, slightly unnerved by the thought. <Beedrills >

The small Weedle nodded its head, <that is what most call them, but we think of them as the defenders. If you do not wish to incur our wrath, then let me go now >

<Your wrath?> the spider asked, again, tilting its head in a confused manner, oblivious to any danger he may incur in the future. <You’ll be kinda dead, don’t you think? Besides, you’d just birth my son in due time if you’re unlucky.>

The Weedle seemed unfazed by his words as she shook her head, <Your child will be my species, since I am the mother,> she replied almost haughtily, as though proving her greater knowledge. Unbeknownst to the spider, however, it was simply a part of maternal instinct in all Pokemon to know the specie result of egg-laying. <Our kind does not learn anything from mating with those not of our own kind. No harm befalls the Hive.>

<Uh,> the rat began, slightly taken aback with nervousness at the idea of enduring the might of a hearty Hive warrior. Though Dar was no coward, he knew his limits did not meet up to those of a Beedrill with battle hardened power, and an aggressive demeanor, which all Beedrill felt when it came to protecting their hives. <Maybe we should let her go. You had your fun... let this pitiful woman crawl away, and let her suffer in life through the memory of how her child came to be.> He almost chuckled at the thought, but he stopped himself swiftly.

That idea... the idea of tortured memory... was it not the ideology of his father that plagued his bastardly existence? He shook his head. <No I’m not as bad as him > he hissed aloud, and too himself, his eyes shut as his head bobbed back and forth a few times to shake the sinfully possible ideas from his head. The two bugs shrugged their nonexistent shoulders before eyeing each other once more, as though the rat’s actions had no actual effect on the flow of the world at all.

The spider giggled as he listened, or rather, as he replied with a completely different thought in mind, <well, thanks for the info. See, if you didn’t waste your time talking, I’d have never been able to prepare a webbing perfect for immobilizing you. Say hi to your buddies in my stomach, would you?>

Following true to his words, a long string of webbing escaped the spider’s mouth, and just as he had said, the bright strings of purplish white swirled on their own, and as they touched their target, they began to wrap around. Within a second, it trapped the bug inside with a quick snapping sound.

Yet, in spite of appearing under wraps, the yellow insect did not give up. Though battered and sexually assaulted, she was still a woman. She was not a quitter, and had the spirit of a champion bustling within. Sooner or later, should she survive the odd encounter uneaten, brains could potentially beat the brawn and simplicity of the spider’s lack of intellect.

At that, the Weedle acted quickly, and swiftly shifted to the side. As she did, she gave as much force as she could to build some momentum, in spite of the impeding silk wrapping that covered her body. At this, she began to roll, and strangely enough, she was picking up speed.

As bugs pursued the game of ‘Insect Date Rape in Middle Mongolia,’ the scene changed back to Phillip. The brown haired boy had been talking to his new Viking companion about a strange dream he had last night. “So there we were,” Phillip began with enthusiasm, “outside the room the mighty Dragon event of Pappa Flame. We had to tread carefully, for the eggs of the fire breathing Darkrock Bagon whelps were all over this room of the dungeon. Still, the healer needed an item from this guy, and if the healer needs stuff... well, let’s say we have no healer if unless the party composition isn’t good enough.”

Verick tilted his head slightly. It sounded almost like an online game with a monthly fee that he once heard about. Regardless of those facts, he knew next to nothing about what in the heck that Phillip was talking about. All in all, he had one word on his mind, “Dah?”

It was suffice to say that Phillip felt the need to speak, as though he were the center of the world, and his thoughts, opinions, and dreams mattered more than the next guy in line. “Anyway... the party composition is good. We had a magic breaker, monk, wizard on the role of damage per two seconds, or in short hand, DP2S, with a numeral two written in there,” Phil explained, practically absorbed in his own words. He was practically oblivious to Verick’s long, drawn out yawn of great disinterest, “and a sage and priest as healer, with a paladin as support healer and side role tanking,” Phil continued, “I was the Fighter, and thus had to gather as much Aggron from the enemies as possible.” It was at this point that Phillip paused, “are you getting all this?” he asked with concern.

“Vell I...” he didn’t get to complete his response as Phil once again monopolized the conversation.

“Great!” Phillip replied with enthusiasm. It was sufficient to say that he’d have said that even if the Viking were dissatisfied as well. His eyes widened in glory as he continued his rant, as Verick absentmindedly continued to roast that night’s dinner over the slightly dimming campfire. “Anyway, since this is a dream, some things are odd, such as odd numbered groups getting left side as groups one, three, four, and nine... meanwhile, we don’t even have more than three groups in there, and you cant go beyond eight groups anyway,” he explained as Verick did his best to ignore Phillip.

Unfortunately for Verick, Phillip did not disturb to annoy, but because he saw himself worthy of being god, were such a being to exist, somewhere within the far future. “Anyway! Here’s where it becomes a bit of a nightmare,” the Mongolian dreamer explained, only pausing to bring a feel of dramatic tension upon the scene, “a man named Leeroy Jonkins runs up and says that time’s up. Then he runs into the room and the eggs, being triggered to hatch upon someone stepping near them, hatch.” At this point, Phillip shudders, “there are whelps, left side, and the even side... many whelps. We had to handle it now!” he replied, hissing as though he were bringing up some cliche punch line that few would ever understand.

“Zis ist just a game, ja?” Verick asked with a slight tinge of confusion, as he felt an urge to inch far, far away from the ranting Mongol at this point in time.

“The game of life!” Phillip replied with far too much vigor in his voice. As he continued, his voice did not waver, “People were losing DKT, Dragon Killing Tally, left and right,” his eyes widened as his dramatic speech continued. As minuscule as the true subject really was, he saw it as a fate of life and death. “And then...” he paused, “and then... wait a minute! Jonkins... that’s the same last name as the Christian Missionary in our town!”

Verick did not quite understand where Phillip was going with this. His head tilted and his eyes blinked twice, “so? Jyer point?”

Phillip shook his head, almost not believing his ears, or even his own realization. He stammered as he tried to process the somewhat odd idea that this may actually be true. “I... I know the father of Leeroy Jonkins,” he stated, s he noticed the confused look on Verick’s face, “if you don’t know who he is,” Phil began, waiting for some signal to continue.

“Leeroy Jonkins is an adventurous Paladin in the country of MRPGSA, or the Massive Role Playing Game State of America. He and others like him live the life of an almost RPG type settings, where there’s mana bars and weapons to handle, and classes to choose from. It is... well, not exactly dangerous, but there is a fee.”

Verick rolled his eyes. “This ist soundink stupid!” he replied with slight anger as he turned his attention back to the almost cooked food.

“If you’re going to be a jerk... fine, I won’t tell you, but Leeroy Jenk...” he stopped himself, almost mispronouncing the man’s last namem, “er, Jonkins, is a legend! Then again, his sister Jenny Jonkins has her own roll. Her story is interesting. One day, she needed to find something to wear, but she could find nothing that suited her taste. In the end, she wound up wearing nothing.. By nothing, I mean never again!”

“Ja right,” Verick replied, “if zat vere true, then a Veedle would fall out of the sky...” he suggested, aklmost certain that such an occurrence would never truly happen.

Of course, the laws of dramatic irony had no choice but to fulfill their destiny, and low and behold, a Weedle did not fall out of the sky. It rolled, tired and covered in white stuff, some of it which may or may not have been silk webbing, hoping to escape the clutches of a crazy spider with her life.

The loud, shrill cry that the bug unleashed was enough to catch Phillip’s attention, “Eh?” he asked, looking down at the Weedle who jumped him from his thoughts, “oh, its just a Weedle...” he grimaced, sighing as he reached for where he held the spheres of red and white power that held monsters within. But before he could grab his balls, he felt a strange urge to scratch his crotch... so he did. Much to his fortune, nobody was looking.

It was then that the green arachnid on the hunt rammed into its white covered target, in hopes of ending its life, or at least its ability to move away.

“Hey!” Phillip yelled, eyeing the Spinarak which he figured to be his own, “Good work, let’s capture this beast and add it to my list of slaves,” He said with a great amount of nonchalance, finally grabbing the Pokeball he sought to find.

The Weedle, seeing the fabled contraption that humans used to rule the world one Pokemon at a time headed for it, it had to contemplate quickly to find the lesser of two evils. Would it become a slave to humanity and never return to the hive, or would it be dinner to a sex starved spider and die having forced sex. Only one word managed to escape the Weedle’s mouth, <****!>

At that, two forces of fate descended upon the small insect. The world of enslavement, or the spider of death both were unwelcome destinies to the young bug. Help would arrive too late.

Sike Saner

15th July 2006, 12:22 AM

Though to a human eye, the beast only appeared to be a yellow worm, ten segments in length, with dopey black eyes and a large red honker for a nose

That description of Weedle made me smile. Especially the "large red honker for a nose". That it is, indeed, alas for Weedle. That it is, indeed.

Perhaps, in all his half a year of life, she was number fifty-four on a mentally kept chart of sexually appealing Weedles.

"Sexually appealing Weedles"...

Yep, there's a phrase I thought I'd never see or hear. XD

It rolled, tired and covered in white stuff, some of it which may or may not have been silk webbing,

._.

Ew. XPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

sighing as he reached for where he held the spheres of red and white power that held monsters within. But before he could grab his balls, he felt a strange urge to scratch his crotch... so he did.

Classic. XD

Well, it's official. That Spinarak creeps me the frell out. XD Also, Phillip's dream nearly gave me an aneurysm, I think. XD I think if I set one foot in MRPGSA, my brain would melt out of my ears... @___@

And, oh yes. I am intrigued by a Pokémon called Stethus that was mentioned...

Dilasc

28th July 2006, 8:39 PM

Hey boys and womens, It's preview time! This is the part of our story where I sorta don't give you a chapter, but bump it with a preview of the next chapter to keep you on the edge of your seat. Then again, its a rather empty theater, so sad!

First things first, the reviewers get center stage because they were in the right to reply to my fic. You can get a comment from the author too... if you post in this thread! I could use more opinions to help my writing future.

Sike Saner: Ah, Stethus... you’ll see one soon enough. Just you wait, and you might be intrigued... you might not. Until then, we are due for it... yes, it’s the Kertonmel Pokedex All you kids playing at home, take notes, this will be on the test.

Anyway, on with the preview. I sometimes feel like I'm talking to myself.

BEGIN PREVIEW

As the small bug curled its body in on itself to rest within its new confines, it sobbed as it thought of its fate. Surely the spider would find himself in hell, no questions asked. He was a sick minded, hedonistic rapist with no concern or care for the lives of those he defiled. Perhaps, those who he killed were the lucky ones. After all, as mere worms, they would likely have been too young to sin, and so the land of eternal grace above the clouds awaited them there, where they could play, laugh, and enjoy endlessly, truly able to forever live in peace and hedonism.

Then, there was the middle of it all, limbo. To some, it is known as purgatory, but whatever be its name, the Weedle believed it was the worst one of all. In Limbo, there was no joy, no pain, only an endless universe of endless nothing. In the end, pain and reaction and ability to be surrounded by others would be better than the nothing at all. It stood to follow an old saying amongst the Hive that most Weedle tended to learn at a young age. ‘It is better to not die the way you are born: alone, screaming, and in fear of being unloved.’

<Will I...> she sobbed, speaking to herself for little apparent reason other than to grasp for herself if this was indeed reality, <will... will I die alone?>

The small bug did not know how long it had been in the confines of its Pokeball. In spite of it being roomy and of a rather comfortable temperature, the emptiness and loneliness of the walls of endless white made this small pocket of a universe seem bleak and miserable. She dared not wander at all from where she landed, for if she did, the absence of all color made it feel as though if it were to dare search far into this strange, empty universe, that it would indeed find itself in an endless Limbo, never to be found again.

The small worm shuddered, shivering not from the cold, but from fear of change. It would be sufficient to say, that for almost all Pokemon, change would seem a ridiculous thing to fear, considering that growth was common to new, and differing bodies, some vastly different than their original forms. For a bug waiting to cocoon, this seemed even more unlikely. Still, this was different, and a fear that the Weedle hoped that other creatures felt as well upon being forced into the human jungle of concrete and barbaric gladiatorial sport. The very idea of being a spectacle to be watched by masses of blood thirsty arena goers made the small bug’s stomach churn with disgust. She almost wished she could throw up to go along with her sense of disgust. The joy of evolution and the cheers of her own kind enjoying her growth into a majestic creature would never be heard. Instead, she would be a tool, grown to fight and do nothing else otherwise, then die when her value ended.

END PREVIEW

Have fun, and remember that authors crave attention.

Dilasc

13th October 2006, 4:14 AM

Anyway. Looks like it’s the silence of the lambs... and big sheep too. Those sheep can be noisy when in flocks. Bah I’ll mutton... erm, mutter to myself about it later. In any case, I am short on readers, and that makes me a sad, sad, and unsilent lamb... or sheep in my case, since I produce lots of wool. Oh well, I’m learning to deal. In any case, I got to thinking... well, one day you might just hear voice recordings. Likely not though, but still. In any case, tips for improvement, or better marketing techniques are smiled upon, as well as spreading the word and telling your friends, ya dig? Word! Remember, replying lets your author know you’re reading, and makes them feel less paranoid, less emo, and less willing to quit. Remember that and you will... uh, something will happen. Basically, I’m so unabsorbed with myself, that I MUST have feedback. It’s eating me like a colony of termites through a wooden skyscraper. THINK OF THE TERMITES!

In more important news, Pluto is no longer a planet. Trust me, it’ll be vital... at least to Mr. Landon. If you want to know how, you’ll have to ask... in this thread. I also wonder, as my twenty-first birthday approaches, if I grow too old to be writing. I doubt I am. Oh well. Anyway, spelling errors in speech are usually exaggerations to make a point of the European/Nordic accent that may be present. Eh, this chapter is a bit low on actual plot, but I gotta post in it sooner or later or the thread might disappear. You don’t want that? You might, but I don’t. Anyway, this chapter is being cut short so I can bump my story in time to become twenty-one and probably score a birthday review if I’m lucky and feeling brazen enough to think people actually would any time otherwise as well.

Dust to Deceit

My life of sex used to be like a sword: I was long and hard and couldn’t wait to get inside things. Now it’s like a tin butter knife: slightly bendable and the best it can do is poke rather lightly.
- Source Unknown

Chapter 21 - Calm Beefore the Swarm

In a flash, the tension ended in what may have seemed to be too sudden, but in the end, the sphere of metal with mystical powers won the day. In a flash of bright red, the creature disappeared into the Pokeball. Phillip smiled, even as the ball shook violently, the creature trying to escape a fate worse than death and hell.

The small Weedle shuddered as it thought of hell. Stories told of demons, powerful demons, too powerful, and too terrifying to even describe, but the color red, bright like the burning flames, yet bathed in the darkest terror like burning blood. Hell, as the Weedle learned, was the land of the dead for those with criminal acts in their past that remain unredeemed.

Within the back of its mind, the Weedle thought of how hell must have been, a realm shared by more than a billion different individuals of countless species that probably even Earthlings would never even knew could exist. Yet here they were, the damned, eternally punished for the crimes that were done in life. The crimes that most likely regretted yet could never even fathom to repent for. Crimes... that probably didn’t even matter in the big picture of the universe overall, and in the end, no lesson is truly learned, for with the end of life, there is no lesson left to even comprehend. All that is left, is suffering... eternal suffering.

As the small bug curled its body in on itself to rest within its new confines, it sobbed as it thought of its fate. Surely the spider would find himself in hell, no questions asked. He was a sick minded, hedonistic rapist with no concern or care for the lives of those he defiled. Perhaps, those who he killed were the lucky ones. After all, as mere worms, they would likely have been too young to sin, and so the land of eternal grace above the clouds awaited them there, where they could play, laugh, and enjoy endlessly, truly able to forever live in peace and hedonism.

Then, there was the middle of it all, limbo. To some, it is known as purgatory, but whatever be its name, the Weedle believed it was the worst one of all. In Limbo, there was no joy, no pain, only an endless universe of endless nothing. In the end, pain and reaction and ability to be surrounded by others would be better than the nothing at all. It stood to follow an old saying amongst the Hive that most Weedle tended to learn at a young age. ‘It is better to not die the way you are born: alone, screaming, and in fear of being unloved.’

<Will I...> she sobbed, speaking to herself for little apparent reason other than to grasp for herself if this was indeed reality, <will... will I die alone?> Never mind the violation of its own being less than an hour ago, her real concern was whether she would live or die without growing to live a long fruitful life.

The small bug did not know how long it had been in the confines of its Pokeball. In spite of it being roomy and of a rather comfortable temperature, the emptiness and loneliness of the walls of endless white made this small pocket of a universe seem bleak and miserable. She dared not wander at all from where she landed, for if she did, the absence of all color made it feel as though if it were to dare search far into this strange, empty universe, that it would indeed find itself in an endless Limbo, never to be found again.

The small worm shuddered, shivering not from the cold, but from fear of change. It would be sufficient to say, that for almost all Pokemon, change would seem a ridiculous thing to fear, considering that growth was common to new, and differing bodies, some vastly different than their original forms. For a bug waiting to cocoon, this seemed even more unlikely. Still, this was different, and a fear that the Weedle hoped that other creatures felt as well upon being forced into the human jungle of concrete and barbaric gladiatorial sport. The very idea of being a spectacle to be watched by masses of blood thirsty arena goers made the small bug’s stomach churn with disgust. She almost wished she could throw up to go along with her sense of disgust. The joy of evolution and the cheers of her own kind enjoying her growth into a majestic creature would never be heard. Instead, she would be a tool, grown to fight and do nothing else otherwise, then die when her value ended.

<Empty...> she muttered through her sobs. Even the spider’s sexual endeavor did not scare or hurt nearly as much as the emptiness and loneliness of the Pokeball. Even if slime, at least she would not be alone. Then again, the beast was probably next to go into a Pokeball, if it wasn’t already conspiring with the human as it stood already. The more she contemplated, the more the thought made any sense. At a time like this, she wondered how exactly the outside world beyond the sphere of cold metal did with her no longer truly part of the great circle of life.

Speaking of the devil and his trainer, the Spinarak had just witnessed the entrapment of his meal in a ball of mysterious power. Blinking three times to comprehend this event, the nameless one stamped its back left leg into the grass below him, the display looking more like an idle tap than anything else, and with as much as it could muster, gave itself an upwards thrust, which led it to leap. Unfortunately, it only reached to about Phillip’s knee. As the bug latched all six of its legs around his leg, Phil tensed under the slight pressure that the feeling gave him.

“What are you doing, you stupid bug?” he asked, as it looked up to meet him eye to eye. Though the human did not see it, the bug was scowling angrily, wanting to tell it how angry it was at Phil for stealing its dinner and its dessert.

Instead, its only explanation was a silent one, taking the shape of a quick blast of stringy web to Phillip’s face. With a quick stating of the name of its specie, it angrily crawled up the human boy’s leg. The feel of its small arachnid legs felt like the small thumb fingers of midgets, prodding Phillip for no good reason other than hopes to find the magic candy located within him as though he were a pinata only able to be unsealed by thumbs instead of wood sticks. Strangely enough, the feeling didn’t seem all too bad.

With an angry saying of its name, the spider glanced at the Pokeball that contained its prey and victim. How dare this human try to steal his food. Were all humans truly so callous as to steal everything from the creatures of the world without any other thoughts besides a most reckless one known as personal gain.

Though it seemed a bit odd for no form of interaction from the side, Verick was not really in the mood to play around with Phillip, and figured that his help would probably just go both unnoticed and unappreciated. It was as though the boy did not appreciate anything anyone could do for him, but welcomed any gift horses to further his own benefits. It was this selfish nature of Phil’s that Verick utterly despised, and yet, at the same time, he had to feel sorry for Phillip, who was just too closed-minded to realize that the world was not in existence to revolve around him.

That, in and of itself, was not the mor vitally important reason that Verick did not partake it Phillip’s affairs. The truer reason was that Phil’s Pokemon were his responsibility, and it was his job to manage and care for it himself. If anything else, it was certainly amusing to watch the Mongolian wind up with web on his face, and he did hope it would happen again every once in a while just to lighten the mood by seeing someone so self-centered get his face slapped with reality every now and then. It was almost enjoyable, if not immature and pointless, to see someone as eccentric and irrational as Phillip take the heat of reality and suffering every once in a while. That said, Phillip seemed to be strange in his own strange and bizarre way, and the Viking astronomer couldn’t pinpoint the rhyme or reason behind it.

While Phillip’s rage boiled over at his pet at the scene of a disturbed campsite, two ladies walked the forest. In all honesty though, it would have been more accurate to say that only one walked, and the other didn’t even have any legs to walk upon. Still, it was safe to say that Belvindar the Mantraray and Purizz the Totodile were at a brisk pace enjoying the peace of the forest, where women like themselves could chat about their awkward male companions and about the long trials ahead of them.

<Verick ist a good human,> the stingray of the Eightfold Path explained. Their search for Spinarak became somewhat of a ruse after fifteen seconds of no success, and at this point, they did what most stereotypes would deem a woman could do best: talk. <He ist good to his sistar who hast oonly one arm. I think he hast very littal hate in hiim and prides on beink a rational thinker.>

The gator looked slightly away as her snout took a slight grimace. <Phillip seems to be the opposite,> she began, pausing for a breath of relaxion before resuming her words, the spines along her back swaying slightly to the feel of the relaxing air, <I agreed to this whole ruse to go along with him and be a good loyal partner, but this lie... I guess I am not too much in the right to judge, am I?> Her eyes took a slight droop of sadness as she looked to the spiritual orange stingray for any guidance that the creature could provide her.

Belvindar was silent for a second, then her large pupils blinked, before her emotionless face began to move to talk, <I haf no ansver. To be honest, I don’t know vhat jou’re talking about, but I think joo should give Villip a chanse, ya?>

The gator’s posture drooped at the thought, as she scratched at one of her teeth with the longest claw on her left arm. <Fine...> she trailed, unwilling to conceptualize exactly who was the one truly at fault. With a quick turnaround, she glanced back at the venomous stingray. <What do you think of Dar’kankst?> she asked honestly, and almost hastily.

The manta’s head tilted slightly, bringing the large body attached to it to a slight tilt along with it. As the imbalance in perfect posture ended, Belvindar responded, <I think he’s insecure...> she trailed, her eyes shutting for a few seconds, and then opening widely with a slight case of surprise. <What is that noise?> she asked with a slight amount of concern.

Her ears, which would appear hidden to the naked, human eye, perked up to a faint sound that was rapidly growing louder. It sounded like a mixture of wing flaps and a killer buzz very much unlike the sort of buzz felt after immersing one’s blood in alcohol. This was an insect buzz, much like that of a dedicated bee, and from the rapidity of the buzzing noises being emitted so quickly, it sounded like something bad was going to happen.

It was at this point that the Totodile decided to respond, <That noise is a Beedrill swarm. It sounds like they’re angry. Do you think...> she trailed, as she considered just how contrived her idea may have been.

<Joo mean ze spidar?> the calm stingray guessed, her accent thicker than usual. The question received a nod from the young crocodilian who seemed shocked to find her strange concept so believable. <Eh, ve cood chek eet out, yah?>

The gator nodded, smiling widely with her largest fangs poking through her mouth.<I think that sounds like a fun idea, for some strange reason.>

At that, the gator’s clawed toes dug into the dirt below. A second later, when she released the earth from the true might from the agony of her feet, Purizz took off in a dash, the orange manta floating swiftly behind her.

It was sufficient enough to say though that a swarm of angry bees can usually reach their destination rather quickly due to their swifter mobility and winged advantages.

It didn’t take long, at least, for the droves of angry insects, to swarm around Phillip and his campsite. Phillip’s reaction to the loud buzzing and insect swarming was to freeze in terror. As his eyes, the only part of his body that didn’t paralyze to the fear of death, glanced carefully about him, they saw what didn’t appear to be too dangerous a creature. After all, it was a large bee with thin wing large, empty eye sockets, and perhaps its most dangerous feature of large piercing spikes that seemed to be attached to its frontal legs that acted as arms.

Indeed, these yellow beasts with black stripes appeared rather calm in Phillip’s eyes, but the fact that he could see at least thirty in front of him without even looking in a full circle didn’t bode well for his self-esteem. The others around him were of course scared as well, or at the very least, most of them were. Verick’s mouth hung open in concern. Though he didn’t show it other than through the sweat that was building up throughout his body, he was deathly afraid. It mainly had to due to his severe allergy to bee stings, which was certainly a valid reason to be afraid of a swarm of angry Beedrills.

The Ratatta was not very scared at all, though very happened to be a key word. Though it stood with its legs bent and ready to pounce if it needed to, the purple rat of angst wasn’t foolish as to attack an angry hive all by his lonesome when he had things to do before his definite assured death. It was needless to say that he had felt stings in his life, and they were never pleasant.

Other than the sleeping Clefairy, who likely did not fear even the end of the world due to its ability to survive without an atmosphere, the nameless Spinirak who had caused this whole mess was perhaps too stupid, or perhaps just too hungry to feel afraid. In fact, its mouth began to water as the angry, glaring red eyes of the winged hornets seemed to lock mostly on him. Whether he knew why he felt the gaze of a million red bugged out eyes or not would be something none of the spider’s traveling companions would have figured out, not that they’d feel inclined to ask such a freakishly awkward question to further worry about their sanity anyway. In spite of the fact that these bugs had been hovering around their encampment for a few seconds with threatening gazes and sharp kniving hands that could likely shred the spider to millions of slices of idiot, the fact remained that the Spinirak was hungry, and knowing its place in the natural order, it figured it couldn’t lose to a mere bug, even if said bug were in droves. Still, a mere human like Phillip, who threatened to disrupt the natural balance and render the spider without its precious legs and therefore make it useless, which in the natural world, was a fate worse than death.

It was at about this time that one of the bees decided to speak up. <Defilers!> the insect shouted with anger. <You have disrespected the sanctity of a young blood of the Hive! Retribution will be fulfilled to compensate the fallen one’s death here and now!>

At those words, the other bees nodded in acknowledgment. Retribution was about to begin...

Sike Saner

19th October 2006, 8:38 PM

Still, this was different, and a fear that the Weedle hoped that other creatures felt as well upon being forced into the human jungle of concrete and barbaric gladiatorial sport. The very idea of being a spectacle to be watched by masses of blood thirsty arena goers made the small bug’s stomach churn with disgust. She almost wished she could throw up to go along with her sense of disgust. The joy of evolution and the cheers of her own kind enjoying her growth into a majestic creature would never be heard. Instead, she would be a tool, grown to fight and do nothing else otherwise, then die when her value ended.

Wow. That really conveys what she’s feeling with regards to her capture there. And I like the reaction she’s having to this situation, too. It’s always refreshing to see a Pokémon who’s not exactly happy to have been snatched up for a life of fighting for the amusement of others.

The feel of its small arachnid legs felt like the small thumb fingers of midgets, prodding Phillip for no good reason other than hopes to find the magic candy located within him as though he were a pinata only able to be unsealed by thumbs instead of wood sticks.

sharp kniving hands that could likely shred the spider to millions of slices of idiot

Both of those represent a choice of words that I just liked the hell out of. I’m especially fond of the phrase “millions of slices of idiot”. XD That’s just terrific.

I love that cliffhanger at the end there…all I know for sure is that those bees are ******. OFF. As for how Phil, Verick, and co. are going to get out of this dilemma, I have no clue, so Ilook forward to seeing what happens with that.

I also wonder, as my twenty-first birthday approaches, if I grow too old to be writing. I doubt I am. Oh well.

Yeah, tis fine, totally. Hell, I’m 23, and if I’m not too old to do this, then you’re certainly not. ^^ And also happy birthday! *gives cake* (Make that happy belated birthday in case I’m late, since I don’t know when the exact date of your birthday is/was. I suck. ><; )

Dilasc

1st November 2006, 1:03 AM

Wow. That really conveys what she’s feeling with regards to her capture there. And I like the reaction she’s having to this situation, too. It’s always refreshing to see a Pokémon who’s not exactly happy to have been snatched up for a life of fighting for the amusement of others.

Don’t forget that she’s been physically assaulted. It’s an PokEMOn overload. Perhaps overdone, but we’ll see how that goes.

Anyway, I decided to honor Halloween by giving a treat to the world, and what better a treat than REVEALED INFORMATION!

First, here’s a few interesting facts about Dust to Deceit and its old past:

-Dust to Deceit originally did not have a country it belonged to. I later chose Mongolia because I always liked the Mongols, Huns and the empires their country spewed in ages past.

-Verick was to be ANOREXIC... or BULIMIC. I forget which one really, but this is only slightly hinted at by the fact that Verick is very skinny. Now he is not disordered.

-Gina didn’t originally swing both ways. It will add a bit to her future though.

-The Orbital Occult did not exist in the first version.

-Gina and Phillip were originally to travel together. I’m glad I ditched this cliche plan. Likewise, Psycho Jimmy would have been the Kertonmel CHAMPION. I really like how I ditched this.

-Pokemon did not talk at all. It’s evident in earlier chapters, but adding lines to them would only spoil some plot points now.

-Kertonmel did not originally have its three starters of Fyrant, Liqweird, and Corvolden. Mr. Brenetmos is a bit different.

-Here are Fan-Evolutions of currently existing creatures that I have scrapped:
Sudowoodo would have had a split path and become either ‘Hollywoodo’ Rock/fighting hollywood action type pokemon, or Dreadwoodo, rock/dark like an evil, erm, fake tree. With a baby form, I scrapped this.
Yanma evolution to have been Dragon/Bug type as a tre ‘dragon’fly of sorts. Oh well, scrap that plan.

-Here are a few my own Pokemon Concepts I scrapped:
Smunk: A Poison/fighting type skunk monk. Its ability would have doubled the power and effect of tail based moves and effects, or been immunity to Psychic attacks. With a skunk and a fighting/poison, though not in the same package, in the new series, I scrapped it. However, the new series is definitely open to their creatures evolving...
Lambias: A fossil creature. It’d have been a large dinosaur with cacophany ability and its type would have been dragon/grass. I scrapped it, and the new fossil creatures fit the land more closely as you’ll find out.
Toxotte: An archer poison/steel type that I scrapped. Meh, it was one made on a whim and didn’t even have a description.
Cloksabith: This one was also on a whim. It's a steel/ice type and its ability Time Warp was its real fame claim. I scrapped it though... at least for now.

That’s all for now, folks! This’s been your Halloween easter egg, because I ran out of candy! Happy Tricking!

Psychic Umbreon

19th November 2006, 1:54 AM

List of Chapters and Interludes thus Far

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 1
Chapter 1: Food for Hate
Interlude 1: A Copernican Complex
Chapter 2: Dile M for Murder
Chapter 3: The Days of Our Lies
Chapter 4: The Trial of Tears and Blood
Chapter 5: The Farce Will Be With You, Always
Interlude 2: They Might Be Gnats
Chapter 6: It's All Inside
Chapter 7: In Chef's Clothing
Chapter 8: Family Guys

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 2
Interlude 3: Don't Steal My Thunder
Chapter 9: Clay is Thicker Than Water
Chapter 10: Boom, Straight to the Moon
Chapter 11: Embrace of the Conspire
Interlude 4: Chew the Rat With Me
Interlude 5: Sweet Dreams, A Bird of the Flame

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 3
Chapter 12: In Which We Begin... Again
Chapter 13: A Series of Misfortunate Suspense
Chapter 14: Sewer and Later

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 4
Chapter 15: A Lavender Hair Experience

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 5
Chapter 16: Of Mice and Mend
Interlude 6: In Clode We Trust
Chapter 17: Passion of the Mice
Chapter 18: Toto-ly Dour

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 6
Chapter 19: Dinner and a Moving

My god. When you sent that PM saying your story was long, I wasn't expecting it to be as long as this. I have read Chapter 1 and I still don't understand why Totodile killed the boy's sister. The computer I'm on atm doesn't allow me to check for mistakes, so the spelling and grammer check will have to wait until Wednesday. Apart from that, it's good so far.

Edit: Okay. The second last paragraph of the first chapter needs a bit of a fix. Where the Professor says
“Congratulations to you all ”
The all needs a full stop after it.

“Yea, wonderful choice I love murder cases ”
Cases needs a full stop after it, and yea needs a 'h'.

Well, it was interesting in a what the hell is this guy thinking sort of way.
I have no idea what you mean by this.

Just stop talking ”
Talking needs a full stop after it.

“Ah, Phillip Molson. I heard the bad news.” he said with a frown.
The full stop after news needs to be a comma. That way, the 'he' fits in perfectly with the sentence.

smiled
I think this is out of place.

Brenetmos
What's that?

Chapter 2 review

bricks
The full stop needs to be a comma.

“Advanced Dungeons and Dragonites?”
That was funny. And a very clever spin on Dungeons and Dragons.

the mans
Needs to be 'The man's'.

“Fine.” sighed Phillip
The full stop needs to be a comma.

Dilasc

1st December 2006, 10:05 PM

Glad for the reviews folks. I'll be more indulgant when I have the time. For now, a short preview of Chapter 22 - Bee'd Wrath and Beyond

BEGIN PREVIEW

At this point, another bee, slightly larger, spoke up. Unlike others of its kind, it looked a bit haggard and slightly injured. One of its spear arms looked to be broken at the end, and a part of its eye appeared scarred. If anything, it made this hornet appear all the more dangerous with experience that has strengthened it. <Raping our kind is forbidden!> it shouted, its chipped spear arm pointing forward as it snarled. Its snarl was muffled by its buzz and the rapid flapping of its wings, but it still had the effect it needed. Furthermore, the sticky, honey drool at the side of its mouth certainly helped provide further proof of a threatening complexion. <For that, the spider must die!>

The convict spider of the topic had yet to become scared, even smiling beneath its fangs. <That’s what you think,> it replied, almost smugly assured of its survival.

I bet some of you wonder why I post Pokemon statistics the way I do between chapters of my personal innovations even though they’d best be saved for WITHIN the story. After all, would I write those statistics in the pages of a book? The answer, honestly is yes. Whether at the end of a chapter or in a little glossary, its for fans who are curious, which I’m sure there are many.

Unfortunately, I’m not introducing any at this time. You got enough of a fill of burning and maybe even smashing pumpkins on Halloween.

Anyway, I’d like to rant about something... unfortunately, I lost my script and now I can’t indulge my audience. I am saddened, but oh well. Most however still aren’t even reading yet so this whole big monologue thing would be meaningless. Anyway, my life and my words (unless it’s the story) are not important. What is important is important is assuring that you readers get a new chapter. Rat on wasp violence ahoy! Soon, very soon, we’ll see more Kertonmel Pokemon in combat action, if anyone is excited. Also, D2D introduces its first new move. Read on.

Dust to Deceit

Boiling sands are said to have the mystic remains from that which elemental arcana used to glue fire and water to the arid deserts. Whether true or not, it is known these effect Pokemon and objects known to be used by Pokemon, enabling evolutions people never thought possible. The real question we seek to answer though is how they work.-Excerpt from the Science Section of a Newspaper

Chapter 22 - Bee’d Wrath and Beyond

The gaze of fifty, pairs of blood red eyes glared angrily at the almost unsuspecting group of journeymen and journeymon. As some of the spear-handed wasps readied their hands for a strike, one of the wasps seemed to fly at forward from the formation.

“HuuUU-ha-huu...mAn!” yelled the bee, its lips moving sideways as it spoke, and its head twisting as it struggled to speak in the human tongue. “H...ho-hu-MAN!”

Phillip Molson, who had been wondering why his pants were not filled with the liquid or solid excretions of his fearful release yet, almost did a double take when he heard the hornet speak. “You... can talk?” he asked, his mind reeling from the idea that such simple minded organisms could learn such complex languages such as those used by humans.

“Uh... I c-c...cAn talk huuuman!” it said, almost shouting. It struggle at almost every word spoken, and much linguistically incapable compatriots, it did seem to produce much of a buzzing sound. When talking to the human though, it seemed to have no struggle at all talking properly. “Y-your spinark...SPINARIK,” it shouted, its neck trembling as its voice struggled to say the words it needed to say.

<Quit stalling, Rajoxx!> shouted one of the other bees in the Pokemon tongue before continue to speak a bit longer. <I am not too keen on this honorable concept, considering the fact that I HATE Spiniraks who think they can walk all over us.>

At this, ‘Rajoxx,’ the human-speaker, turned around to face the bee who had addressed him. <Shut up Gith’m! It’s hard enough to figure out this crappy language. I can do without the distractions.> With the slight release of anger, his large red eyes returned to he human, and its language reverted to said language as well. “W... we must fa...FIGHT your sp...spider f-fOR Ru...eh, RapE ChurGES.”

“If that stupid spider did something stupid, I’ll tear off its arms, one by one,” he stated almost enjoying the sound of the dark words rolling off his tongue, “SLOWLY!”

<Hey Rajoxx,> one of the other bugs began, <I like this human! He’s cruel and torturous. I wanna stay and watch him tear legs off!>

To reply, another decided to voice its opinion as well. <I agree that it would be fun,> replied another, its sharp bladed arm lightly rubbing the top of its own head, <but it is kinda taking away from OUR fun. I wanna kill the spider!>

<Back off!> added another, as others seemed to open their oddly misshaped mouths to voice their opinion on the matter.

Before an argument could go to the bees, Dar’kanst the ******* rat decided to speak up. <Wait a second. What the hell is this all about, anyway? So the human captured one of your kind,> the rat noted, a bit peeved at how these pesky bees wasted their time, <big deal! It happens all the time!>

To this, one of the hornets chuckled, its sideways mouth opening wide for a drawn breath before its explanation. <You are all free to leave, honestly. The capture of our kind is but a part of the circle of life, or so we’ve come to accept,> it replied with a sigh, before continuing <whether we like it or not, it’s how it is. The young grow through a path fraught with th perils of humanity and its corruption.>

At this point, another bee, slightly larger, spoke up. Unlike others of its kind, it looked a bit haggard and slightly injured. One of its spear arms looked to be broken at the end, and a part of its eye appeared scarred. If anything, it made this hornet appear all the more dangerous with experience that has strengthened it. <Raping our kind is forbidden!> it shouted, its chipped spear arm pointing forward as it snarled. Its snarl was muffled by its buzz and the rapid flapping of its wings, but it still had the effect it needed. Furthermore, the sticky, honey drool at the side of its mouth certainly helped provide further proof of a threatening complexion. <For that, the spider must die!>

The convict spider of the topic had yet to become scared, even smiling beneath its fangs. <That’s what you think,> it replied, almost smugly assured of its survival.

The large, battleworn bee snarled yet again, <Pitiful gullibility like yours besets your death wonderfully. Mayhaps though, it shall be a fitting demise.> At this, the bee’s eyes widened as it descended towards the green spider.

<I can’t let you hurt him,> Dar stated as he reared his legs backwards and barred his sharp, buckteeth before continuing, <as much of an idiot as he is, I’m obligated to... teamwork,> The last word, as he spoke it, felt strange rolling off the tongue so easily. Perhaps it was a side effect of captivity, or perhaps it was a deep seated pity for the six legged moron.

Whatever it was, the purple mouse was stuck with his decision, and almost struck by it too. This was especially true, for a long needle arm barely missed him as he quickly leaped away just in time. The drilling appendage struck the brown earth with great force, piercing a hole within the dirt a few inches thick where it stuck so powerfully. With little effort, the bee pulled its rugged arm out of the ground with little problem before addressing the rat.

<Such a lesser creature you are as is, rodent! You should learn your place better in hell.>

Phillip, whose eyes widened as he saw the bee try and attack his Pokemon, spoke up at this event, “You’re here to fight?” he asked, trying not to sound too fearful in the face of impending death at the razor hands of insect reapers. “Let’s get them, Ratatta,” he ordered. His lips quivered though his voice remained firm. “Use Quick Attack!”

At this order, the rat revved its back, ready to move at a speed almost as fast as the human eye, but vocal intervention stopped this once again. “HuuMAN!” shouted the vocalist Rajoxx, “y-you cannOt urder yOU Er slA-a-SLAvEs. T-try ag-g-again and I HIt y-yaou wi-t-th-t Tra-TA-TRANqOoL Sh-OT.”

“Tranqvil Shot?” Verick said, quivering and gulping. His eyes widened and his knees trembled. To ensure that his travel companion was aware of th he looked at Phillip, and explained to be safe, “Tranqveel shot, it... well, it puts ya to sleep, and it’s poisonous.” He stated, his eyes gazed towards the talking bee, fear clearly visible in his eyes. “I do not vant to be stung,” he stated plainly enough, though the stench of fear that he emanated was far to obvious to the bugs with such enhanced smell. “I... I am allerg-eek to jor stings and venom.”

Rajoxx’s head tilted, its large, red eyes did not blink, but their deep stare startled the young Viking. In a swift motion, the bug’s needled arm went forward, thrusting as though it were to try and pincushion the skinny redhead. Instead, it stopped a mere hair before touching the scared boy.

In a swift motion, the scything arm moved again, and in a swift swish, moved across the front of Verick’s face, taking a slight amount of his brick colored hair in the process. “Hu...ha...” the bug began, seemingly happy, but struggling to find the right words to use, “hahA! YouYou are sca-scu-sa... terrid!” The tone of its voice gave no indication towards any form of emotion.

<Rajox!> yelled one of the bees without human linguistics, <why are we just letting them go? They’re trying to obstruct justice!>

<If they intervene, Roetty,> the human speaker said in its common tongue, <then they will suffer and be executed for their heresy!>

The large bee who had been staring down the fiery rat, decided to speak up, his head not moving away from the rodent he wanted no less than to stab through the heart. <We of the hive have been to passive. The forest creatures fear us not, and we cower to the likes of the Hound packs who only have size in their favor,> His voice was filled with vigor and perhaps an overdose of drama as he spoke.

<The dogs? It’s good to see that hatreds can be shared,> chimed in the Ratatta all to willingly, <but their leader, my father, will die as I bite my teeth into his neck and feast in disgust on the blood of my accursed lineage!>

<Interesting,> said the warrior wasp, flying closer to the rat, who cringed slightly to the closeness to his enemy. The bug spoke up again, his voice slightly above a whisper as he spoke to the rat. <You seem determined to attain completion of this grave, yet over-exaggerated vendetta you place upon yourself. Perhaps, we should ally ourselves, and eke our conquest. Thrash the spider, and leave the human a rotting corpse upon the fitting grace of the land, which the earthen worms will call food. Though they’ll despise the corrupt monster’s corpse, worms are lesser, and therefore deserve no word towards what they get, and accept the slop that is a human’s festering corpse!>

The rat frowned, as he turned his eye towards the young spider, who’s mind seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts that probably made no sense about anything and everything. They were perhaps the kind of thoughts that would make the universe dull and fill it suckitude if it were to be a universal reality. Regardless of what the spider’s pea brain was thinking, the rat kinda liked him. Sure, he was stupid, but he could almost see the curiosity that his son had, as well as the hormonal overload that his son had as well. Perhaps, he could use this spider to fill a fresh gap before it could open beyond one day’s worth of trauma.

<No!> the rat replied, firmly. <As strong as you say you are, you cannot make me stronger. As such, I travel with my human guide, where I will gain untold amounts of power you could only wish you could share with me. As such, this conversation ends, and you will not kill the alpha-male of the hounds before I do, or your head will roll!>

At this, the haggard hornet’s wings flapped swiftly, and a sputtering buzz emanated from its lips, which usually wasn’t where the buzz came from, which meant that something big was happening. <I’d really, REALLY rather not kill you. To defeat the hound alpha... Chagith, I believe, would cripple them, and we could certainly use your help. You can... grow to fight, can you not?>

The purple rat snarled at the bee, almost chuckling with disinterest. <A Ratowar? You jest! That’s a myth and you know it! It’s as much a myth as the Gledyator, Kingkrab and Duksawse! They are perfections in evolution that are LOST! You speak of craziness!>

The large wasp grinned, though its mouth did not shape well to a smile. <Regardless, we could use your help. Most hounds hate the alpha, we could build mutinous rebellions as the peasantry rises against the dictatorial lord of the land. It will be worthy bloodshed, fit for a Qweanbee!>

<You’re a bit of a brave talker,> Dar noted, <what’s your name?>

<Chaoth...> was the reply, simply enough.

Phillip, had, for all intensive purposes, been trying to make sense of the situation as best he could. Spinirak and Ratatta were about to get diced, his Totodile was nowhere to be seen, Verick’s Clefairy was the laziest thing in the world and had literally no character to it, and his Mantraray was missing too. “Can you believe that what feels like it might have been thirty minutes in the story of my life and my journey, has only spanned for about a five?” he asked to absolutely nobody at all, yet also seemed to gather the attention of everyone awake. “What? Why are you... why are you all staring at me, with your deadly stingers...” a few seconds later, jeopardy dawned on him “Shit!”

He needed help, not just anybody, help. He knew he’d need someone. “Help!” he shouted, elongating upon the vowel sound for a few seconds before stopping. All his yell seemed to do, was scare a few birds to flap loudly to the wind.

Rajoxx turned, addressing one of the bees who cowered, “Do-ono-n’t fear bir-birdSSezZ!” he stated, realizing he was talking in his broken form of the human tongue. “Oopus!” he stated, realizing his flaw in language choice.

<But... but birds eat us!> yelled one of the younger beedrills with a quivering voice.

<Go home and be a housemaiden like the women are, you baby!> replied another.

To this, Dar’kankst’s head tilted, his interest piqued. <Your women are... inferior?> he asked. At that, his toothy mouth twisted, an almost pleased smile upon his face. <Please,> he stated, <tell me more!> he demanded. A slight chuckle escaped his lips.

His smirk only widened in anticipation of explanation.

Sike Saner

5th December 2006, 9:57 AM

Well! That, I must say, is one of my favorites among your chapters—there were just so many little things in it to like. (As you’ll soon see in the MASSIVE QUOTE SECTION. XD) Lots of insects being cool in that creepy insect way—I especially liked Rajoxx and his manner of speaking. ^^ Plus, Tranquil Shot sounds like a cool move. =)

And now, for the aforementioned quotes package. Fwee. ^^

“HuuUU-ha-huu...mAn!” yelled the bee, its lips moving sideways as it spoke, and its head twisting as it struggled to speak in the human tongue. “H...ho-hu-MAN!”

There’s something distinctly creepy, not to mention distinctly cool, about a giant wasp attempting to speak.

Phillip Molson, who had been wondering why his pants were not filled with the liquid or solid excretions of his fearful release yet, almost did a double take when he heard the hornet speak.

XD

<Quit stalling, Rajoxx!>

Rajoxx = cool name, and furthermore actually sounds like a name thay an intelligent wasp would have. ^^

Shut up Gith’m!

Same with Gith’m. Very cool. ^^

It’s hard enough to figure out this crappy language.

XD at the “crappy language” comment. XP

“If that stupid spider did something stupid, I’ll tear off its arms, one by one,” he stated almost enjoying the sound of the dark words rolling off his tongue, “SLOWLY!”

Not exactly sure why I like that part, but I think it might be the “If that stupid spider did something stupid” part. :3

<Hey Rajoxx,> one of the other bugs began, <I like this human! He’s cruel and torturous. I wanna stay and watch him tear legs off!>

I like that guy’s way of thinking. X3

Before an argument could go to the bees, Dar’kanst the ******* rat decided to speak up.

I love the way you described that rat there. XD

<If they intervene, Roetty,>

It’s official: I like the names of the bees. All of them. ^^ (Or anyway, the ones I know about.)

<The dogs? It’s good to see that hatreds can be shared,> chimed in the Ratatta all to willingly, <but their leader, my father, will die as I bite my teeth into his neck and feast in disgust on the blood of my accursed lineage!>

He just said something cool… *_*

Perhaps, we should ally ourselves, and eke our conquest. Thrash the spider, and leave the human a rotting corpse upon the fitting grace of the land, which the earthen worms will call food. Though they’ll despise the corrupt monster’s corpse, worms are lesser, and therefore deserve no word towards what they get, and accept the slop that is a human’s festering corpse!

…And now that wasp went and said something cool. *_*

They were perhaps the kind of thoughts that would make the universe dull and fill it suckitude if it were to be a universal reality.

XD

<Chaoth...>

See my previous statement about the bee names. ^^

“What? Why are you... why are you all staring at me, with your deadly stingers...” a few seconds later, jeopardy dawned on him “****!”

XD

So. I had a good time reading that chapter, that’s for sure. ^^

And also, I’m officially an idiot for not getting the title of said chapter sooner. XD

Psychic Umbreon

6th December 2006, 12:55 AM

The chapter itself is quite good. The only glaringly obvious mistake I saw was this:

untila

It should be until a.

Keep up the good work, Dilasc.

Dilasc

6th December 2006, 10:01 PM

Plus, Tranquil Shot sounds like a cool move. =)

Ask and you shall receive.

It's time to open up your Kertonmel glossary! There are 4 new enties in the Pokemon section and 1 new move, the first new move to be revealed.

First, the Pokemon.

Ratowar
Type: Fighting/Normal
Ability: Guts/Numb Status (Doubles both defenses when frozen, paralyzed or asleep)
Evolution Line - Evolve a raticate, obviously. The details are not to be told.
Name Definition - It's a rat, a rat of war. It's like a manowar by name, but when of mice and men, you get the rat, ya dig?

Duksaws
Type: Flying/Fighting
Ability: Huge Power
Evolution: Evolve Farfetch'd, the method is farfetch'd.
Name meaning: Mix the word duck sauce with saws. Duksaws uses a more saw edged stick than before

Alright folks! It's preview time! This time, there are TWO previews! One is the real one, and the other isn't. Guess carefully, because the real answer may shock you.

First Preview

The green haired Gina Meshing stared at her foe with intensity, a gleam of determination as she stared at what appeared to be a crustaceous creature with pinching claws.

“Here’s this giant enemy Krabby!” the young green hair stated, her hand reaching for the Pokeball with a Pokemon she knew to be inside.

Her accomplice, ex-psychopath, Jimmy, stared at her as though something were wrong with her. He figured something must have been wrong, considering the way she had been acting so seemingly bloodthirsty ever since entering the low road of the sewers. “It’s not that big. Maybe its claws are a bit lopsided, but it’s not that big.”

Ignoring his words, she grinned wickedly as she threw the pokeball with the green dinosaur she had picked a few days ago. “I’m going to attack its weak point...” she said as she squinted her eyes for dramatic effect, “for massive damage!”

As the Bulbasaur heard the call of combat, it was about to speak, but before it could, Gina interrupted it. “Use Leaf Razor! LLLLEEAF RRRRAAZOOR!”

To this, the Bulbasaur did nothing, for it knew no such move as that which Gina seemed to spew out senselessly.

“Gina, seriously! Are you possessed? We need to get you exorcised!”

At last, she acknowledged the male and as she turned to him, she spoke. “I’m in shape. I’ve lost two hundred seventy-two point twenty-seven repeating kilograms.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in confusion.

“That’s equal to about five hundred ninety-nine U.S. life pounds, and probably the common weight in that obese country.”

Amongst the arguement, the small crustacean spoke, <Sometimes I wish I were in a game that either takes place or were made in a not-so Feudal Japan.>

To this, the verdant dinosaur nodded in agreement.

Preview One End

Or is it...

Preview Two

Within he hour, the bird had reached the cavernous destination it sough. <Regigrass,> it said under its breath to the wide and empty cavern walls. The only company it had was at the back dead-end of the grey rock. In this area, a statue crafted from gold and a small amount of sturdy metals stood tall. Upon what appeared to be legs with leafy frills along the side, what appeared to be a the leafy green of a pinetree for its legs and lower body. Indeed, Moltres knew it looked much like its statuesque brethren, with a thick bushel of verdant splendor, and arms built of thick greenery, ending in a rounded stub with leafy fingers.

Though the statue appeared a shiny golden, its true colors were definitely more of a verdant shade. Yet, amongst the grass, a strange pattern of dots stood out amongst the creature’s featureless face: seven dots, shaped like an upside down letter Y.

Upon the face of all their kin, the guardian golems of Hoenn all possessed seven dots in some obscure and mysterious pattern. Their purpose though were of yet to be truly understood by the bird of the flames, but he figured that these dotted symbols were not too important, and that their purpose was truly unimportant.

Though the cave was wide dark, the bright flames of Moltres’ own creation kept the place warm and temperate. Indeed, this cave was relaxing and peacefully a place where the bird could have time all to itself, with only the spirit of a departed grass giant to keep him company.

The peaceful quiet was disturbed by a whirling hum. It almost sounded like the hum was being focused into a metal tube, then at the end of the tube, was being reflected back into the tube to be forced back out again stronger, louder, and with enough of a screech to it to cause twice as much shuddering as nails upon a chalk board ever could.

Preview Two End

THIS, my fans, is the quiz for you. If you have the answer, do not be afraid to post your answer right here in the thread. Seriously, I don't mind, and I'd appreciate it and the attention.

Air Dragon

24th December 2006, 9:25 PM

*Lets out a long, low whistle*

Wow...i've been seing this fic around, but never really got around to reading it. If the intro is anything to go by, this fic will be the best of its category read yet! Keeping it real though, i caught a single error in it:

It was the accursed reptilian species of sister murderer Phil would be damned if his hands were forced to touch the forsaken murderer, unless he were to be ringing its neck.

Um… that ringing is wringing.

Other than that, five stars all round for originality, style and description. well, gotta round this up here. put me on the pm list as i go through all these chapters!

L@er!

Dilasc

25th December 2006, 5:04 AM

Glad you're liking it.

Anyways, your post gives me a chance to wish everyone a happy holidays. I personally don't find them fun, but... happy holidays everyone. The new year will bring more story.

Dilasc

5th January 2007, 3:19 AM

I know, I know! I'm disappointing all of you with not posting a new chapter. I am posting relevent information to help your reading experience though. I almost feel guilty posting this, but I figure you deserve to know, even if likely nobody should care (and you honestly don't have to.)

First off, I have been toggling with the creatures of my creation: Blaksheer, who you may know as Mareep's anger evolution in this story, has been renamed Lambshade. This has been edited everywhere found. Instead, Blaksheer will be Lambshade's evolution, which was originally called Ramewe. The only real changes have been name.

Epeetuna, and its evolutions, are steel/normal instead of normal/fighting. They're still swordfishy.

Speaking of pokemon I made, I have just about completed the total amount of new species found in Kertonmel. It comes currently to a nice square number of One hundred twenty-one. That's a nice number, squared by my good chum, the number eleven.

Anyway, you can ask for the list by PM if you so desire it, but its not very vital to your reading, and of course, between chapters after a specie is at least introduced by name, it will still get a statistics sheet, showing all that's shown on the list I have written up.

It does not describe appearance, but the names usually indicate what its likely to be. Also of note, pokemon that aren't Kertonmel creatures will not be on the list. For instance, the four legendary swords are not on the list because they are of another region. Stallyuk (who you'll likely meet) is of another region, and only appears in an afterchapter type listing and is not on my Pokedex of sorts.

Now for something fun. Pronunciation guides! If it comes down to it, I'll use voice based, but hopefully this will suffice.

Kertonmel

Seems simple, doesn't it? Ker is, well, said exactly the way you say cur, with a nice grr type sound. Ton is tougher, its more like the ton of magneton, and not like a ton with the short U sound. It's a short o and not short u. Mel is Mel, much like the maker of a movie with a name similar to a chapter's title about a certain rat and passion.

Verick

Love the lost Viking. A blizzard found him! Anyway, its best pronounced Veer-ick. Though acceptable, Vee-rick sounds unprofessional.

Lipii

Where the three starters, Corvolden, Fiyrant, and Liqwierd are attained. It's simple really. It's as it may sound. Lippy!

The Oni

The demons names are tough, as the emphasis may seem strangely placed in the word. First off, the name's don't flow. Instead, there's a split second of pause between the sylable before the oni part, and and the last letter is usually lost to the oni portion.

As such: Spar-coney is a proper pronunciation. Spark-oni is acceptable, but again, sounds amatuerish, much like pronouncing the silent c in scythe is not proper either.
Vacuu-moni is proper too.
Keep in mind, Oni always sounds like Oni, any added consanents before the word don't change the long o to a short o in Oni.
Thermal-loni has the a in thermal a bit different. Mal rhymes with pal or Cal, if that's enough. Note that the l lingers on the tongue through the part before and into the Oni portion.
Spoo-coney is simple and follows the sparkoni rule.
Poxoni is the exception. The x remains in pox.

Dar'Kankst

Our favorite cursed rat. If you don't know it yet, Dar's name is literally Dark Angst, though the g is more definite as a k pronounciation.

Brenetmos

Crazy doctor, hopefully simple. Bren is like bread, but N instead of d. Et is get without the g, and et doesn't phone home. Mos is the most without the t. Put them all together and you have solution!

Gretkan

Big planet here! Gret rhymes with bret, but starts with a g, and no it doesn't sound like a j. Kan is like khan. KHAN! Oops, couldn't help it. Simple, hopefully.

Tetsicles

You havent met him yet, but the Totodile has mentioned him once. A simple answer is that it is basically said the same as the naughty word it sounds like with one t and one s swapped around. A more thurough definition though shows that tet is much like the tet from tetris, but all in all, this isn't very blocky. Sicles is sickles, the garden weapon of grass cutting doom. Put them together! I wonder if that's anywhere where they got the word it sounds like from...

Corvolden

Perhaps a tough one, this grass/electric cyclops. Cor is core, and vol is like volt, but no t, and den is den, say den with me. Hint: it rhymes with ten! Put em together.

That enough boredom for ya? I assure you all, more story coming soon.

Stay tuned for the next interlude: Burns of Steel

Our good buddy Moltres gets more of the screen time he deserves next chapter, and don't let these boring portions of useless insight get you down or angry.

Dilasc

16th January 2007, 3:18 AM

New chapter time, and I think I might have pulled in new readers. Key word ‘Think’ since I’m not too certain.’ Ah well.

It’s time again to return our story to Moltres. As you may have figured out, any chapter that isn’t about Phillip’s crew or Gina’s crew is an interlude. This one is no rule breaker. Be on the lookout for there is a new specie introduced this chapter.

The new World of Warcraft expansion is going to be a huge, and I mean HUGE distraction. Part of the reason DtD died the first time was because World of Warcraft came out about two years ago. Now the expansion will be a distraction yet again. Rest assured though, it shall not be the end of Dust to Deceit this time! It will be up to you all to review to occupy my time and thoughts.

So, those who have asked for it and gotten it, do you like the creatures I have made? Many make no sense, and some look like they’re missing. Remember though, its Kertonmel species only: that means foreign pokemon like the legendary swords: Excalb, Masmun, Murasa, Ragnar, as well as a different legendary to be introduced here, will not be included as they are foreign to Kertonmel. Yes, you’ll see some creatures not dexed, but they will still get their status glossary post in due time. Currently, it is in a faux state of completion, rounding out nicely to a square one hundred twenty-one pokemon. Remember to PM me if you want to see it. The typing may seem like strange combos, such as the fact that there is not ONE normal type. You heard me. EVERY normal type is a secondary or primary type in a type combo, and only one is also partly flying: flying is the primary type in this combo. It’s interesting, so don’t hesitate to ask. I am eager to send and get feedback. Anyways, ONWARD! Remember, I WANT TO GIVE OUT MY POKEDEX INFO AND SHOW OFF, SO DON’T FORGET TO PM ME TO ASK, K THNX!

Note, if you recently received the Fake Pokedex, PM me again. I forgot two creatures. Claymore, (like Jimmy has) and its pre-evolution, Mudstik.

Dust to Deceit

When men first walked this planet, they only knew of four elements of earth, fire, water, and air. The Chinese learned of nature, though they mistakenly called it wood, and called earth metal. Now, man has moved on to more than one hundred complex and phony element. We may never truly unlock the powers of the true twelve.-Source Unknown

Interlude 7 - Burns of Steel

The bright blues of dust reflecting the sun’s light no longer painted the sky with its peaceful and warm coloring. Instead, it was replaced by the spectral pattern of dusk ranging from the orange of sunset, to the nightly purple slowly encroaching upon the land with its cooling embrace.

To its serene beauty, Moltres paid no heed. Though usually, the genderless firebird could enjoy the sight of the nightly sky and its endless mysteries. In truth, it wished it could just bolt towards from the mundaneness of the dying Earth, but duty always brought it back into concordance with the laws of nature.

The ocean below seemed calm, as its once blue waters darkened by pollution and the setting of the sun. Even without the light, the bird of fire knew its way, and within half of a minute, it descended towards the Earth below, its destination: a shrine for a fallen one.

Within the hour, the bird had reached the cavernous destination it sough. <Regigrass,> it said under its breath to the wide and empty cavern walls. The only company it had was at the back dead-end of the grey rock. In this area, a statue crafted from gold and a small amount of sturdy metals stood tall. Upon what appeared to be legs with leafy frills along the side, what appeared to be a the leafy green of a pinetree for its legs and lower body. Indeed, Moltres knew it looked much like its statuesque brethren, with a thick bushel of verdant splendor, and arms built of thick greenery, ending in a rounded stub with leafy fingers.

Though the statue appeared a shiny golden, its true colors were definitely more of a verdant shade. Yet, amongst the grass, a strange pattern of dots stood out amongst the creature’s featureless face: seven dots, shaped like an upside down letter Y.

Upon the face of all their kin, the guardian golems of Hoenn all possessed seven dots in some obscure and mysteriously ominous and truly pointless patterns. Their purpose though were of yet to be truly understood by the bird of the flames, but he figured that these dotted symbols were not too important, and that their purpose was truly unimportant.

Though the cave was wide dark, the bright flames of Moltres’ own creation kept the place warm and temperate. Indeed, this cave was relaxing and peacefully a place where the bird could have time all to itself, with only the spirit of a departed grass giant to keep him company.

The peaceful quiet was disturbed by a whirling hum. It almost sounded like the hum was being focused into a metal tube, then at the end of the tube, was being reflected back into the tube to be forced back out again stronger, louder, and with enough of a screech to it to cause twice as much shuddering as nails upon a chalk board ever could.

After the initial startle and the earful of chilling metallic noise, the bird turned around, <Registeel,> was the only word to leave the phoenix’s mouth.

Swiftly, the sound of metallic clomping echoed through the cavern, and about a minute later, the shiny figure of reflective grey metal made itself known. From bottom to top, the creature’s appearance began with slender, yet stubby bright grey cylinders for feet, which seemed to stop at a flattened groin area about half a foot high. From here, the body appeared like an hourglass, but at the top end, it rounded out to a sphere that reflected the light of the bird’s fire.

As it seemed to speak, seven red dots, forming a hexagon with one in the middle, began to glow, <Such an unexpected visit,> it said with a hollow and metallic voice. Though sounding empty, there was more steeled determination and vigor within this animated metal than there seemed to be. <What brings you here, Moltres?>

As it spoke, it rose its arms. Shaped like rowboat oars, they were as flat and grey as any movie from before nineteen sixties. At the ends, three claws built of razor sharp steel were attached to these oar shaped extensions, looking much like rakes, though perhaps ten times more fatal to the touch. As it strummed these fingers along its bodily head, a metallic tapping echoed through the empty cavern walls, and the bird could not help but shiver again.

<Homage,> was the bird’s simple reply, <those who have perished deserve respect, though they also have my immortal envy.> At this, the bird moved its eyes away from the red dots that seemed to stare into the abyss of rock wall. Though looking stupid, the golem ‘Regis’, as the sacred beasts of Hoenn were called, were smarter than they looked.

To this, the living statue’s head tilted slightly sideways, a creaking noise emanating from its rusty sides as it did. Suffice to say, the steel beast was swift to tilt its head back and provide its response, the seven dots upon its spherical face took a faint glow. <You are still as down to earth, yet beyond the skies as you always are,> the steel beast replied, its voice seeming to echo through its metallic frame a few times before reaching the outside world around it. <When will you learn your place?>

Not that this noise bothered the bird of flame. Awkward voices were common amongst some of the stranger beasts of power. More to concern was Registeel’s words. <My ‘place’ does not exist, and neither does yours. You have the freedom to think as you wish should you desire it,> it stated, as its slight stretched its skinny neck. As the stretch ended, the orange bird spoke once more, <maybe you’d understand better if you read my novel. I certainly hear that humans like it, though few in number. Those who have read it, are impressed from what sources tell me.>

To this, the metallic claws of the statue swished the empty air as they curled in and out idly, the steel beast’s eyes dulling from their originally bright red. <Sources?> its metallic voice asked, <what ‘sources’ do you have?>

The bird sighed, its eyes downcasting as it calmed down, its sharp hearing growing more accustomed to the rusty, unintentional squeaks of the metallic beast standing before him. <It’s... premonitory for the most part. The story itself tells the story of an immortal who seeks reason and complacency.>

The steel creature nodded, though its facelessness kept the bird guessing what its thoughts or opinions on the matter may have been. <Hmm,> it began in a soft, vibrating hum, <if it’s about your life, why would anyone want to read a story about you wanting to kill yourself and never going through with it?>

The bird’s head turned to face the statue beast once again, its eyes locked on the seven red dots upon its head. <Kill myself?> it asked, its tone slightly bitter, <I suppose if wishing for the ability to age and live amongst the social world is suicidal, then so be it,> it replied with honesty.

The patient steel beast nodded. Registeel was known, after all, to be the most patient of its guardian statuesque brethren, and though Regice was the one who was best suited to cold, calculative command, Registeel was like a shaman who had the patience to wait for a bad omen of fate mixed with robotic number crunching and an ability to figure probability better than ten master mathematicians. <You have the flawed sense of hope that an aging creature would, and seem to desire this... weakness. Why?>

To this Moltres shut its eyes, and turned its head to the left. Slowly, and dramatically, it opened its eyes again, <It is a difference, not a flaw. It is where the grass is greener, always upon the other side: The side I have yet to attempt, the escape from this mundane and sometimes pointless responsibility. The freedom from anything and everything, to be amongst the lesser, even of my own kind.>

The steel creature’s metal hum echoed the cave as it groaned, thinking carefully of how to reply to this somewhat touchy and almost sacrilege subject of abandonment. <You are certainly not here as a friendly gesture of goodwill,> the steel beast stated in a quick change of subject. <I can tell you feel urgency in the air about you, and in the intensity of your flames.>

<You would be correct,> the bird replied with a nod, <my sleep has been restless and one of bad visions. The Oni... I am not sure what, or who is telling me this, but I feel a strong pull towards this Mongolian hell-hole.>

<Perhaps...> began the steel creature with a thought induced pause, the seven dots on its face dimming to a darker red, <perhaps you feel that this could be your chance. Your chance to throw it all away and therefore be free of life, free of stress in all responsibility...> the steel creature replied, unleashing a sigh as it paused. The sigh sounded almost robotic coming from the steel cage of the creatures somewhat hollow head, <it is the almost perfect suicide. I’m guessing you have taught yourself, Plummet, was it? Using it recklessly could kill you.>

<Honestly,> the bird noted with a displeasure, <I just wanted to respect the dead without persecution. As much as I’d like a moment of silent prayer, I feel the urge to leave before I decide to burn you in frustration.>

The steel creature’s head shook slightly at the red bird’s lack of control. <You do not give yourself enough credit.>

<Doubtful,> replied the phoenix with reassurance, <but I’ll let you believe whatever you wish,> it stated, its beak opening widely this time to yawn a mighty beast’s yawn. <I have a long journey ahead of me. I don’t know quite what I will be doing when I get there, but something will happen in Kertonmel.>

The patient steel nodded its large head, <interesting plight. You follow hope towards that which you have no idea what you’re doing.>

<I am likely going to be fighting. From what I hear, these demons are ruthlessly vile to their cores and deserve a trip back to the hells they came from!> Moltres’ body began to glow with its anger, emitting a bright heat throughout the cavern. One that put the steel creature on edge due to its susceptibility to smoulders and burns.

<I think,> began the steel creature, its metallic body warmed by the burn of the bird’s exhumed anger, <that I need to rest. I don’t know if you ever tire or not, but I do.>

The steel beast shrugged. <This is a sacred ground. If you were a typical being, the way you wish you were, then this would be offlimits to even breathe within here. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you were... lesser, right about now?> Though it had no face, Registeel was certainly grinning in its own faceless way.

<Touche,> the bird replied hesitantly, as its wings stretched the length of the cavern walls before retracting in upon themselves, <my sleep is not the dreams and blunders of aging creatures. I will probably be visited in my dream by another prophecy.>

The steel beast nodded. <I’m sure you will,> it said within its hollow head, <and you will likely need help, lest you plummet to your doom.>

<So...> Moltres trailed, <Suppose I decided to change the subject to current events around Hoenn, would you object?>

Registeel shook its head, steel squeaks happening at every head gyration, <Not at all, though I will see what interesting... gopiss, is it?>

To this, the bird could not hold back a chuckle, <It’s gossip. ‘Go piss’ is what you say to Zapdos when it acts stupid, as in ‘go piss off!’>

<I see,> the steel creature noted, unable to understand the humor in the bird’s words. <Well perhaps you would like to know how Regice is doing...> The steel creature began.

The night was going to be long, but at least for Moltres, it would not be lonely, even if prophetic.

Sike Saner

17th January 2007, 12:12 AM

The peaceful quiet was disturbed by a whirling hum. It almost sounded like the hum was being focused into a metal tube, then at the end of the tube, was being reflected back into the tube to be forced back out again stronger, louder, and with enough of a screech to it to cause twice as much shuddering as nails upon a chalk board ever could.

*shudders* Yes, that is indeed a creepy noise.

As it spoke, it rose its arms. Shaped like rowboat oars, they were as flat and grey as any movie from before nineteen sixties.

Nice one. ^^

<So...> Moltres trailed, <Suppose I decided to change the subject to current events around Hoenn, would you object?>

Registeel shook its head, steel squeaks happening at every head gyration, <Not at all, though I will see what interesting... gopiss, is it?>

To this, the bird could not hold back a chuckle, <It’s gossip. ‘Go piss’ is what you say to Zapdos when it acts stupid, as in ‘go piss off!’>

PRICELESS. XD

Regigrass sounds cool; alas, that it no longer walks among the living. I wonder, have you got Regis for even more elements? A Fire-type one would be pretty boss, I’d imagine…

I also thought that the dialogue between Moltres and Registeel was handled well, and again, the “gopiss” line…XD That’s one to remember, that’s for sure. ^^

Dilasc

25th January 2007, 12:07 AM

Regigrass is gone, no plot twists about it. Sadly, there are no others. Its death and disappearance are plotiliciously spoiler though.

Anyway, time to update your worldwide dexes, because even though gone, Regigrass still existed and therefore fits the dex.

Regigrass
Type: Grass (duh)
Ability: Clear Body
Evolution: Its legendary, its extinct, it ain't moving any time soon.
Name Meaning: Regi and grass... isn't it brilliant?

ALSO, new move. It might have been subtle, but here it is. Behold, PLUMMET

Plummet
Type: Physical Flying
Power: 250
PP: 5
Effect: The user flies high and at lightning speed torpedoes towards the enemy, causing immensely powerful damage. Unfortunately, the impact lashes back and drains the user to unconsciousness. In layman terms, it's a flying type version of the move Explosion. If it misses, the pokemon will not faint.

Anyway, next week its back to the (hopefully) thrilling (hopefully) conclusion of the whole beedrill justice saga. Stay tuned!

Dilasc

14th February 2007, 4:17 AM

Yes, yes, I'm still working hard. I've been distracted though.

In any case, a small preview of chapter 23: Bugger Off With His Head

Begin preview

<That rat’s a turncoat,> the gator stated quietly with disgust deeply seated in her voice, <I’d honestly expect no less than that from a greedy ******* the likes of which he is!> she noted, only to feel a jagged, yet light tap upon her shoulder. With a slight gasp, the gator swiftly turned around.

Standing, or better put, hovering before her was one of the warrior bees. Its body seemed healthy, and its poking arms were ready to touch the gator again, but this time with either a lethal injection or a skewering stab. <What are you doing here?> it asked angrily, its red eyes sternly glaring at the gator before it, <both of you leave at once! This area is currently being used to conduct justice. Beat it or die!> His needled hand reflected the light of the setting sun as it was raised upwards, threatening to fall in a most deathly cut.

End Preview

!!Start Review!!

Saphira_Thorn

28th February 2007, 12:12 AM

Chapter 4

“Ooh! My gun go flyyyy…” went a familiar psychotic voice. “Flying! Whee!” that laughter which followed, and the insane, effeminate tone. It could only mean one thing.

So this is Jimmy? You were right when you said he was crazy.

An answer to that stood before him in a rage of blue, armed with claws and teeth. “Totodile!” he called to the blue creature. “I know you must hate me, but I realize my mistake! If you can accept my apology…” Phillip’s eyes were wild with fear as his mind knew what must be done, “Then please, untie Gina and get her out of here!” he was practically begging the creature to save her.

“Ooh, my foot feels funny.” laughed the crazy one as his voice brought creepy feeling to all nearby. “Croccy wants to play! Whee!” he grinned as he noticed the blue gator rescuing damsel in distress.

Noooo! Don't let Jimmy kill Gina. Totodile to the rescue, I hope.

It was then that a blue meteor of reptilian hide smashed head first into the man’s gullet. Its force was strong, and got quite the reaction the laws of physics would deem fit, sending the psycho sprawling to the ground on his side. Yet, as he fell, he laughed yet again. His feminine laugh did not dither or choke on a syllable as its accursed sound rang through all ears present. His smile and enthusiasm seemed as great as ever. “Whee!”

Umm, okay. What a weirdo.

the mans

Should be the man's.

Her eyes were pleading. “Don’t kill him.” she seemed to beg. Her eyes were watering up, “I know he’s a cruel person, but please.” she couldn’t hold it back. Tears stream down her cheeks. “Just no killing today.” she pleaded, wishing she could wipe the tears from her eyes.

The compassionate Gina. How touching. That's a good personality to have.

“Aw, how cute!” spoke Jimmy, going wide eyed and sickly. “Cooties! Cooties! Cooties!” he raved wildly, rather beaten and dazed on the soft soil. The ground soaked up the blood from his face as he lips still maintained its insane smile. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere at all.

I was going to say 'no comment', but I'll say this instead. He's beyond crazy.

“Bulbasaur.” went the green haired girl as she addressed the pokemon. “I’m going to need your help.” she said. The creature before her nodded once as the human girl pointed to Phil, who was struggling slightly at keeping the crazy man down, his Totodile doing his best to help as well. “I believe you have a move called Vine Whip.” she recalled, hoping her assumption was indeed correct. With the green one’s nod of confirmation, she gave her first ever command to her very first Pokemon. “Ok, see that man tied up over there?” she asked the beast, patting it atop the orifice atop its backside. “See if you can wrap some vines around that man’s wrists and ankles.”

Clever move, Gina.

“I want to fly like a Wingul,” the nutcase sung merrily as he was heaved into the air. “I wanna fly like a Wingul, my spirit free. Fly like a Wingul cuz they’ll never capture me! I want to FLYYYYY, Whee!”

Wingull. Short and simple.

Chapter 5

He hardly noticed a small green creature approaching nearby. Hairs, short, yet noticeable grew along its body of chitin. Its yellowy, black striped legs also had tarantula hairs growing meshed about. And adorning its head was a rather wide, flat spike, hardly dangerous in the least.

“Eh? You heard nothing!” the boy grinned as he spoke to the Totodile, not quite looking at the creature, as he began reaching down to stroke gently the scaly skin of the reptilian Pokemon, whom he had learned was not his enemy. Instead, a hairy, filmy skin was what his fingers found, gliding along the surface suspiciously.

It didn’t go long, for after three seconds, a strange pair of pinching teeth bit into his hand, the boy yelped in pain. The spider was scared. Its voice piped up, naturally, the only word spoken was its name as it looked upwards towards the human. It was scared. Its bite was relatively not lethal. No! There would be no poison on the first bite. After all, why waste precious venom on something that may not need it. Suffice to say, there was no way that an average human would know that much.

“Yow!” went Phil, as he retracted his hand quickly. Looking down, he saw a pair of buggy eyes staring back up at him. His hand, punctured with the piercing spider fangs, pulsated like a rapid heart beat, fiercely in pain. Thankfully it didn’t draw blood, though his palm did have two very prominent, and easily noticeable puncture marks. The creature spoke again, words lost to a lack of lingual capabilities. Its dialog simply sounded like ‘Spinirak’.

Teh Spinarak appears.

Suffice to say, the blue gator was standing at the other side of the boy, and it damn sure wasn’t just going to stand around helplessly. Not a chance! It was, after all, a hunter at heart, and the hunter lives for the hunt. In a swift motion, its claws opened as it swiftly leapt to the left around the boy’s legs. As it ended, it leapt again, these razor sharp phalanges swiftly sunk deep into the creature’s flimsy chitin, white liquid oozing at the deep puncture.

Its bug eyes widening, it swiftly proceeded as it opened its insect mouth yet again. Instead of vicious fangs and teeth, a white, dry and sticky string began dancing in the air, wrapping itself around anything it could cling to. It spoke, repeating its own name over and over as its constrictive silk wrapped itself around the defensive Totodile’s waist, pulling its arms to its side as it roped around him.

Poor bug however was outnumbered. Phil wasn’t going to let Totodile fight this and lose. After all, this little bug didn’t stand that much taller than the lad’s foot. At such a fact, why not help our your Pokemon and give it a good kick! Verily, he proceeded to do just that. With a quick motion, his foot went flying straight for the creature’s thorax, breaking its careful web weaving as it unleashed a gasp of pain, yelling loudly its name as it keeled over in pain. It was not really expecting a battle.

He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. He could not believe it. His mind had wandered to malicious intent! Villainous, cruel ideas and treatment. This would not become of his sister were she in his place. He simply HAD to stop thinking, ASAP! Without another game of mental warfare, he quickly grasped to his belt. His fingers rapped against the white of the poke ball twice, and then it was gone from his hand! Smacking against the green arachnid, it opened like a Pac-Man and oh so suddenly suddenly turned the beast into a ray of red light, glowing lightly for a second. Then the light was gone, leaving only a closed ball that seemed to dance vibrantly on the ground. Shaking about, the ball rolled about, smacking against a tree, bouncing one or two inches, landing more hushed than a pin drop as the grass softened its fall. After a short boogie, the ball seemed to have had enough. It was silent and still, save for a slight fading noise.

Yay, the Spinarak got captured!!

Well done, Dilasc. This is turning out quite good. And I promise I won't fall so far behind next time.

Dilasc

8th March 2007, 4:44 AM

Thank you Saphira.

Anyway, the next chapter is well, gonna take a long time to finish at the rate I'm going. Expect it to be plotpointed, and don't expect disappointment. Stay tuned... and tell your friends to catch this story on the fly while you're at it. Heh... or not.

Saphira_Thorn

8th March 2007, 5:06 AM

Review of chappie 6.

“I’m just set up us the bomb!” he rambled, swaying about like the psycho he was. “Last night I dreamed I was a baby Lambshade! And all my brother Mareep would bleat me up because they were jealous they turned into Flaaffy instead. They was jealous!” Jimmy snickered. It seemed Jimmy was back to normal… well, as far as normal Jimminess goes. He proceeded to laugh like a maniac.

"Bleat me up" ? Funny and weird at the same time.

“Weeeeell… All around the blueberry bush, a Mankey chased a sneasel! The Mankey knew a battle was won. Aaaand Cross Chopped the Sneasel!” Jimmy’s insanity rang into the Molson’s ears, snapping the lad out of the craziness his mind had nearly tugged him to. “This has been brought to you all by Grassers Leech Seed Surprise, with the yummy taste of life drain!” he shouted as his tied up body swayed slightly within its vinery of confines. Indeed, everyone was indeed going to ‘go nuts’ if they had to keep hearing that man’s insanity, and Phil already seemed to be along the path of the nutcase.

Umm... okay. Mankey and Sneasel?

‘I should have killed him…’ he sighed

Oh yeah, you definitely should've done that.

“B, D, S, M!”

What on earth does that mean?

Hearing its mistress, the creature bolted in he direction of the sound

Okay, spelling mistake alert. 'he' should be the.

Besides, I want to watch ‘Saving Private Raikou.’

"Saving Private Raikou" ? Hmm, we're into lots of spin-offs here. First it was "Dungeons and Dragonites" and now this.

A man with a heavy accent spoke. “Vonderful!” it was clear that some of his V’s were actually W’s. “Granbull Enagy Drink!” his accent poorly done seemed not to remove the meaning of the words spoken. “Don’t you know? Granbull gives you Ving Attacks!” finished the no so funnily accented man as the commercial came to an end.

I'm assuming this is Verick.

Dilasc

1st April 2007, 4:01 AM

I know, I know. You're all expecting a new chapter... unfortunately I'm quitting. Though I know it's too soon to say this even by my own timezone, I have little choice: APRIL FOOLS!

Anyway, I know I have a few readers who will be someday soon giving their first review. You folks know who you are... by all means, take your time. Just don't outright forget.

To make things better, I'm going to post another preview of chapter 23: Bugger Off With his Head

BEGIN PREVIEW

Two cornered souls on the edge of their lives were bracing for the worst. Khaoth, a proud champion of the hive that he was, smiled as victory loomed in the name of his queen. <FALL NOW TO YOUR MASTERS AND LAY YOUR SOULS UPON THE COLD, MISERABLE DIRT!> he shouted, his fury at a level matching that of a berserker as he held his tattered spears in front of his insect face, <your fight was valiant,> he stated in a softer tone to catch his breath, before shouting again, <YOU LOSE!> he roared as his lunged swiftly at his prey who were beaten and covered in blood.

“Oh no!” shouted Phillip, wishing his bowels had not been emptied a few hours ago, so that he had some left to release right here to express his fear in the face of death.

The bleeding Dar’kankst snarled, <y... you will not crush my soul, even if you pierce my heart!> he retorted, his teeth gnashed as he held onto his life as best he could. He embraced himself, Hades itself was on the horizon, and all the rodent did, was give a bucktoothed smirk. <BRING IT!>

END PREVIEW

I can guaruntee that this chapter will be up within the next four months or your money back guaruntee, all zero currency of it.

DarkPersian479

29th April 2007, 7:30 AM

About time I reviewed... This is kinda a general review for all chapters so far.

There are quite a few typos and such sprinkled about, though it does get better as the chapters progress.

Your descriptive style is unique and certainly enjoyable to read. The Pokemon are given personalities that, frankly, I've never seen given to Pokemon before. And in the latest chapters, the workings of the Beedrill hive are given a very interesting code of conduct and policies that the swarm abides by.

Now, personally, I'm not really into the angst, and Phillip, Dar, and the nameless Spinarak are not my favorites character-wise. Of course, it's in a "love to hate them" type feeling toward them. Phillip's the cruel trainer, Spinarak's a perverted sexual predator, and Dar's just plain sexist. All three are interesting characters and done well, but I'm personally hoping something happens to reform all three of them!

Again, the angst isn't really my thing, but that doesn't mean it's any less well-written. In fact, I think it'll be interesting to see if some of these flawed characters can become any...I dunno, less flawed, maybe.

Dilasc

4th June 2007, 2:00 AM

New chapter time. Has it been too long? Yes, I've been a busy member of the 9-5 working world and have little desire to 'work' on a story after a long day.

Anyway, you may have noticed a preview of a fic called Koda. You’d be right to realize that it will be a story. Stay tuned and the first chapter will come... eventually. Again, work may generate miniscule paychecks, but money doesn't make me write better.

Dust to Deceit

I am a god in a trench coat! Fear that which may or may not lie beneath it and bow before me!
-No fancifully fictional source this time...

Chapter 23: Bugger Off With His Head

<Oh noh!> was the distressed yet softly exclaimed gasp from a heavily accented voice. Said voice’s owner was orange and slimy, and hovering above the dirt below with a sad look upon its face, especially as it looked upon the scene set before it. All Belvindar could do was frown and watch carefully. <We moost help Veriick! He ist veak to stings. ‘Is von armed sistar would be zad to see him leaf her!> Her Norwegian accent breathed heavily into every word.

To her left, a scaley blue beast stood with the red fins along its back standing on edge. <There has to be something we can do to help them,> she stated, <I would hate to have Phillip bite it either. Dunno about the rat though, but everyone else is worth it.>

Watching a battered insect chat with the curly tailed rodent was a bit discomforting, especially hearing how easily a haggard bee and a purple rodent seemed to get along. Regardless, the orange stingray watched eagerly, waiting for something to happen.

<That rat’s a turncoat,> the gator stated quietly with disgust in her voice, <I’d honestly expect no less than that from a greedy ******* the likes of which he is,> she noted, only to feel a jagged, yet light tap upon her shoulder. With a slight gasp, the gator swiftly turned around.

Standing, or better put, hovering before her was one of the warrior bees. Its body seemed healthy, and its poking arms were ready to touch the gator again, but this time with either a lethal injection or a skewering stab. <What are you doing here?> it asked angrily, its red eyes sternly glaring at the gator before it, <both of you leave at once! This area is currently being used to conduct justice. Beat it or die!> His needled hand reflected the light of the setting sun as it was raised upwards, threatening to fall in a most deathly cut.

The gator’s eyes met with the reflective red of the judicious insect, <what the hell is going on here?>

<Justice!> the hornet repeated with an enthusiastic hiss, <justice against an arachnid rapist who has likely raped many of our kind before.> It smiled, or rather, it smiled as best as its sideways mouth could let it smile. Regardless, it was giddy with goose bumps in anticipation of gladiatorial execution.

At this point, the sting ray decided to speak up. <I zuppose ja don’t want ta bargain, but I have a reqvest.>

The bee turned his eyes to the creature of cartilage, <not really. You can, however, humor this bored guard, if you’d like.>

With a solemn look of regret, the lady manta looked up at the flying insect with pleading eyes, <My human, Veerick, he ist vulnerable to jyar stingers. Coult you please sparing him?>

The bee being questioned turned its gaze to a stern glare, though behind the red eyes, its change was not easily noticeable unless one were to notice the slight glimmer they took as the pupils behind them moved ever slightly. <You talk funny, but I think the human you mentioned has been begging for his life,> he replied, almost smiling at the idea of humans being so vulnerable to the might of even the touch of a hive warrior <his answer, as well as yours is a stern no. However, only the spider will be harmed, provided nobody interferes with Hive law. Understand?>

With a resigned cringe, the stingray bobbed her head up and down, nodding her understanding, <vhy not let da others go?>

Though his smirk remained unseen, the bug who addressed the stray ladies smugly replied, <It pleases and empowers us to know that we are feared. To be fear is to be powerful. It is why we are strong and why one day, we hope our swarm rules the planet.>

The ladies were not scared. Purizz yawned with slight boredom, but she did not feel too threatened by the angry hornet, <I suppose you don’t need to rely on your numbers either.>

The bee’s left needle arm struck the ground beneath it. <I suppose not,> it replied, his gaze wandering about, <but two against one hardly seems fair, don’t you think?>

The crocodile gritted her teeth, her gaze firm upon the hornet guardian, <I never said I was going to even search for help,> she snarled, <let’s go, tough guy!>

The bee held out its needled arms, <easy there,> it stated calmly, <though one on one you will get, I certainly cannot keep others who overhear from joining in and ripping your pathetic skin to shreds!>

<Fine, I will let it be known then,> the gator proclaimed, her voice remaining quiet, even though she was ready to shout out loud enough for nations across the ocean to hear her wailing.

To this, the electrical manta swiftly glided towards the gator, her eyes pleadingly concerned, <I daan like dis! I’ sounds dangeroos!> Her barbed tail drooped to tap the ground, as though attempting to listen to vibrations with it.

<Right now, we’re IN danger!> the gator replied, <we have little choice, and perhaps we can come to an agreement.>

<I danno,> the manta replied with a sigh, her cartilage mouth frowning to the thought of danger, <but I guess ve haf no choice.>

With a nod, the gator looked towards the rat and the swarmed bees. She snarled as she noticed the purple sexist’s smug smirk. At that very moment, she would have enjoyed nothing more than to grab his protruding fangs and tear them out of the loser’s mouth, leaving pain and the musical screams and cries of satisfaction. Of course, the gatoress knew that these buck teeth would definitely grow back. There was no denying that fact, as it was the nature of the creature, and Purizz knew it.

<Hey!> she yelled suddenly in a loud hiss. Successful to what it was meant to do, almost every eye turned to the blue gator, <what is going on here?>

Though Phillip couldn’t understand what was being said, he was glad to see his Pokemon had returned to him safely. “Run before these pea-brains realize you’re here!” he shouted in desperation. Of course, the sudden glare of a multitude of red compound eyes shut the miserable human up quickly.

The gator looked the human’s way, and shook her head, <No!> it stated firmly, its head turning back to the swarming bugs with grave intent, <I challenge your best and your strongest to a one on one battle!>

Laughs went throughout the bees, though gasps and whispers of gossip passed about. Of course, the ragged bodied, battle hardened Khaoth did only one thing, he swiftly flew towards the gator, and lunged its tattered yet razor sharp left arm into the dirt in front of Purizz, and with a snarl, he replied. <I accept, and I’m guessing you’ve got ulterior motives...>

<Yes,> the gator replied slowly, <if I win, you will leave us alone and leave everyone unharmed,>

<I don’t expect to lose,> the Beedrill replied confidently, <and if we win, you die... everyone of you lesser beasts die. Even your capture will die!>

To this, the Ratatta’s teeth chittered together, a few drabs of salivation escaping through the open sides, <Is that how it is then? You not only fight a WOMAN, but you turn me to fodder when we could have made an agreement?> Dar snarled as his front left paw dug into the dirty earth beneath him.

<Our QUEEN would crush your skull with a simple thought,> yelled one of the generic, yet to be named hornets, as it held its left needle arm in front of it as if ready to lunge, <you are LUCKY that she has more important things to deal with than losers like you!>

<Stay calm,> stated Khaoth, his body unmoving as he glared at the blue gator, <if it is your end that you seek, then I give you one chance to stand down,> he warned, his eyes narrowing upon the lady gator as his left needle arm slashed the empty air in front of him, his tone of voice extremely calm, yet at the same time menacing, <decide now.>

To this, the Ratatta’s fangs gnashed together in an angry rage, <HOLD IT!> it shouted in an angry tone, angry rage causing a few small globs of saliva to escape its mouth. <As much as I hate the woman, I will NOT let my fate be dictated by one. As much as I hate her, I hate life even more!> he snarled as he leapt to the gator’s side, his face turning to look at the lady gator, his curled tail swishing rapidly in anticipation, <don’t think yourself any more blessed,> the rat explained, <You are still just a pitiful woman. I’m doing this for me!>

<So, I shall dispose you both?> the ragged hornet asked, not even waiting for an answer, <FINE! I shall lob your heads on the piked edges of my arms and parade through the high skies, instilling fear in ay who would dare stand against us!>

The gator’s spines stood at their tips as she glanced at the Beedrill, <Fine, brin-> she could not finish, for before her words ended, the flying menace’s needled arm lunged right at her. With what would have been only a hairline away from being pain, the gator jumped in the air, thankful that it was reptilian and thus without a shred of hair or fur upon it.

As the bee’s arm lunged, it lunged into the ground, a slight tremor with a radius of about seventeen inches took its place as it cut the hard dirt like sun-drenched machete through low-fat butter. With a invigorated shout, it quickly removed its arm from the dirt a small patch still stuck around the wartorn needle. <Feel your last breath while you can and savor the liberty I leave you to do so,> it stated, only barely dodging a swift head first lunge from the angry life hating rat. <I will not revel in torment before the final heart plunge.>

As the rat landed, its small, purple paws clenched the dirt to stop it from sliding a few seconds longer as it snarled and glared back at the hornet. <Do you think me scared to die?> it asked, its teeth chittering as it plopped back on its legs, ready to strike again, <hit me and end my suffering... if you can.>

The hornet waited, its eyes unmoving from the ground as it seemed to lose itself to a trance, only to swiftly fly away from an encroaching gator claw, to which it retorted with a successful strike from the bee’s own head, <not very clever, are you?>

A grin remained hidden from the bug’s face, but every pokemon in the area knew it was smiling wickedly as its needled left hand drew close to the gator’s head, <cheer up,> Khaoth stated happily, <you get to die by my hands,> its left needle drew backwards as it pinned the gator with its other, <and no other an honor can be found.>

The rat snarled. This felt... strange. The rotten ***** of a lizard would meet her end for tempting fate by trying to be something more than a woman in a man’s world. Strangely, it felt unfulfilling. With a snarl, the rat bared it sharp fangs, and with a snarl, he dove at the battered warrior hornet with no fear, and no worries. All that the rat knew was that someone would die: either he or the hornet, and they would die with great honor.

Sike Saner

4th June 2007, 7:26 AM

First off, great title. XD Second, dang—I’m finding Khaoth to be pretty wicked. o.o I rather like him as an adversary; he’s a GIANT HORNET, which is wicked to begin with, and he gets really cool lines. I’m liking the fight against him so far and it should be interesting to see how that ends. Maybe in hornet soup, maybe not. XD Either way, I look forward to more of that action. ^^

Other favorite aspects of the previous chapter:

I am a god in a trench coat! Fear that which may or may not lie beneath it and bow before me!
-No fancifully fictional source this time...

XD

With a nod, the gator looked towards the rat and the swarmed bees. She snarled as she noticed the purple sexist’s smug smirk. At that very moment, she would have enjoyed nothing more than to grab his protruding fangs and tear them out of the loser’s mouth, leaving pain and the musical screams and cries of satisfaction. Of course, the gatoress knew that these buck teeth would definitely grow back. There was no denying that fact, as it was the nature of the creature, and Purizz knew it.

Alas, poor Purizz. It is indeed sorrowful when one’s desired revenge is thwarted by the victim’s own biology. XD

To this, the Ratatta’s teeth chittered together, a few drabs of salivation escaping through the open sides, <Is that how it is then? You not only fight a WOMAN, but you turn me to fodder when we could have made an agreement?> Dar snarled as his front left paw dug into the dirty earth beneath him.

<Our QUEEN would crush your skull with a simple thought,> yelled one of the generic, yet to be named hornets, as it held its left needle arm in front of it as if ready to lunge, <you are LUCKY that she has more important things to deal with than losers like you!>

Ooh, burn! XD I love the emphasis on “queen”; it makes for such a wonderfully direct jab at Dar’s sexist sensibilities. Yes, dear Rattata, a FEMALE could kick your ***. Muahahahaha! X3 And on another note, I love how the retorting Beedrill is referred to as “one of the generic, yet to be named hornets”. XD

As the bee’s arm lunged, it lunged into the ground, a slight tremor with a radius of about seventeen inches took its place as it cut the hard dirt like sun-drenched machete through low-fat butter.

“Like a sun-drenched machete through low-fat butter”. I love that. :D

Air Dragon

5th June 2007, 11:51 AM

Here we go! Grammar corrections first:

To her left, a scaley blue beast stood

To her left, a scaly blue beast stood

his answer, as well as yours is a stern no.

his answer, as well as yours, is a stern no.

To be fear is to be powerful.

To be feared is to be powerful.

Even your capture will die!

Even your captor will die!

still stuck around the wartorn needle.

still stuck around the war torn needle.

Wow, that Rattata sounds seriously masochistic, eh? The Norwegian stingray sounds hella funny too… got to go, I have a lot of catching up to do!

Keep up the good work!

L@er!

Dilasc

23rd June 2007, 12:40 AM

Even your captor will die!

This one is correct, actually. It is talking about the captured weedle that pretty much sent out the distress call for all this. So pretty much, it is, his 'capture.' The Beedrills are a bit sadistic. But then again, reading out of order can be a bit... confusing.

Anyway, more story to come, and the awards both potentially excite and depress me at the same time. Here's to doing well... and I guess good luck to everyone else as well... ya know, just to show good sportsmanship, even though it's not always easy.

Anyway, read this story!

Dilasc

24th December 2007, 4:37 AM

It has been exactly 6 months and a day since my last post here. Do you wish this story dead already? I don't.

Before I post, I'll wish everyone a happy half a decade until the Mayan Calendar predicts our doom. Well, actually, I should have said this yesterday... or tomorrow, either works depending on who you ask.

Anyway, here's a preview of what's to come!

Begin Preview

<Ha!> the enraged hornet managed through the electrical numbing, <are you that interested in temporary death postponement?> it asked with a vigorous thrill of the moment as insectuous adrenaline coursed its veins, <Are you so afraid of death?>

The manta shook her head swiftly as she responded. <No! I vish to die vhile making amends,> she hissed, her sharp mind easily detecting the slight mix of both fear and being flabbergasted in the bee’s subtle head movements and its red blinking eyes. Knowing this, the sea creature continued, <I am past mine priime. I haf nothink to live for. You con kill me if you vish! But I vill protect dese innocent youths in da process. Jou may not be humon, and day not my biological loved vuns,> she explained, tears began to form at her salty, yet beady black eyes, <however, I will die smilink! Sow, bring iit!>

Preview Ends

Now, for some fun games, guess existing creatures that you think the characters may have in their party. This is all for fun, and you don't need to post anything... I'm just lonely here and looking for feedback of almost any kind. Of course, you could leave a regular review if you'd like... I know I'd like it.

In any case, expect this chapter 25: Mommy Drearest to be up soon.
Can you expect something bad from an award winner?

I'm rambling again, aren't I?

Dilasc

30th December 2007, 3:20 AM

Here’s the next chapter after more than half a year with possibly cheesier cliches than any of the previous chapters combined. Is this story even remembered after all this time? If not, is the time difference so great that it is so different? Only you decide by reading.

I have been inspired by my tied award victory to continue. Though I can’t help but feel as though I am seen as somewhat of a joke. DtD isn’t primarily comedy. It’s just that some people try to use comedy to relieve tension from tragedy... or in this case, copious angst! Remember folks, when Vikings speak or when Pokemon try to speak, their words WILL be spelled oddly. If it’s too difficult to decipher, then let me know!

Previously on Dust to Deceit:

The thundering sound of hooves and the fog of tan dirt quickly disappeared, and in their place, a fearful chill and ten Mongol horse warriors stood in place. Their stallions fierce and suited well for war. They were, after all, the most elite horse archers that the Horde would ever know.

Yet, their lone foe stared at them with great intensity. The lousy actor Billiam Shlackner had but one thing to say to their leader, and at the top of his voice, the height of his skill showed through, “KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAN!”

It was apparent that this guy sucked at life! Of course, with the piercing of a million arrows, he began to suck at dying as well.

***

Gina felt the grip and eerie chill of fear. The stench of decay was staggering at this point. Looking down below her, the green haired girl knew why: something dying or already dead lay at her feet.

Bending down, the green haired child placed her hand near the unmoving human’s heart. To her traveling companion and friend standing behind her, she had only one thing to say, which she barely managed to get out: “He’s dead, Jim!”

***

Verick Yorgeheim sighed as he sat by the campsite he and Phillip Molson shoddily created. They had been chatting about boring things now. None of what they said could have possibly been worth its potential as a cracked joke or a vaguely alluding plot point ere now.

Verick figured it was as good a time as any to continue. “So dis von time, at Bland Chareecter comp...” he began, only to find Phil conveniently sleeping to prevent an unfinished innuendo joke from attaining its uncreative existence.

***

And now for chapter 24. This whole gag would have actually been funny if it were animated and had voices doing this instead. Preferably, overacting voices rich with excessive drama that is at an energy level above the required.

-Seriously, I work on a small fan-base here! Be glad you got what you did!

Chapter 24: Mommy Drearest

With agility not befitting a fieldmouse, the purple rat Dar’kankst had lunged at its opponent, a battle master and champion of its hive, the needle armed Khaoth’s red eye glistened off the setting sun as he caught sight of the rat. In a swift motion, he turned around.

The rat’s fangs opened, eager to clench the hornet’s head clear off and continue on to one day conquer his father with new strength and experience. Of course, he was soon to be knocked off his high horse, or more precise, with a resounding ‘thwack’, Dar was knocked into a nearby tree by the flat edge of a needled arm. <Pathetic,> he stated under his breath, turning around to return his attention to the gator, only to realize she was no longer standing there beneath his handless grip.

Looking in an upwards direction, the Totodile lunged, catching underside of the hornet’s thorax with her razor teeth and refused to release the grip.

With a wince of pain, the disciplined veteran of war stayed calm, swaying his tail as a faint purple shade took to the stinger of his tail. With her eyes widening at the sight, she did not catch the needled arm the jabbed her in the side. Though not deep, it cut the skin around her belly by about half an inch, letting blood run. One thing was certain, to scream loudly, the overbite grip needed to be released, and in a swift yelling motion, the bipedal gator fell to the ground few feet below, slight amounts of crimson blood trickling free from her stab wound.

<This distraction is tedious,> the wasp stated, its voice edgy and its patience thin, <I would much rather fulfill my plan of takeover and leave the queen begging at my knees for her life to be spared than to fight runts like you shitheads.>

This caught the gator off-guard, <Takeover? You’re rebelling?> she asked as she readied her gator claws for another strike at her foe.

<I’ve been planning it for ages,> he stated almost proudly, and unashamed, <and none of the drones here would dare to turn me in...> he noted, his large red eyes turning to his lesser bee brethren, <lest they too wind up in many pieces...> His voice was quiet as he said all this, his eyes darting almost fearfully to and from each potential bee, for few truly knew of his plans

The gator snarled, <you’re a coward!> she hissed, lunging for the bee head on, her claws ready o rend his head off. Like before, she missed.

<And your aim is off,> the champion Beedrill replied with an invisible grin.

As the gator looked below the hornet of dark destiny, she smiled with content, <better check again.>

His large red eyes went even wider as he looked to the ground. As unbelievable as it seemed, a piece of his needle hand had been sliced clean off, no missing scratch marks could be seen. Though the piece was not that great, enough of the piercing end was missing to worry Khaoth of a great loss. His feral scream sounded like a very loud buzz amongst the farther reaches of the forest. <You useless *****,> he snarled, as he swooped down, picking up the piece of fallen stinger with one of his feet. <I’ll kill you!> At that, he swing wildly, yet with the skill and calculation of a veteran of his profession.

<Whoa!> shouted the rat in amazement at the spectacle he saw. It was pretty intense, the sight of this bee having just lost an arm simply pick it up and attempt to beat the enemy up with it. What made it even more incredible was that the bee was using his right leg to do so. This state of awed amazement didn’t last though. Dar’kankst snapped back to reality with a mad dashing tackle. As he leaped upwards at the hornet, he thought for sure the bee was too distracted. Yet, an act of humility would follow.

With an almost sixth sense of his surroundings, the hornet glanced over his shoulder just in time, <Nice try!> the limb-lost beedrill replied as he swiftly gained altitude, causing his back attacker to strike the blue gator lady where it wasn’t intended.

As the rat’s charge struck the wrong target, he stepped aback, and a few false words seemed to sprout from his mouth, <I can’t exactly feel as though I struck the wrong target,> he stated almost smugly. In his state of lesser hubris, he let time pass him by as he stared at a slightly more injured Purizz, definitely long enough to be struck from behind.

Though the still intact pointer did cut along the back of his skin, the rat lived. Suffice to say, the now lacerated skin was starting to bleed, and of course, searing pain led to a loud hiss of pain. It was enough to send the rodent to flop, kicking up a very small puff of dirt in its one inch fall.

With a grin of confidence, the bee brandished its spear arm that still worked, with a great sense of might, it spoke <you could’a been useful,> he said quickly, as to not get caught up in a sense of false victory that battle taught him never to do.

<DA!> came a heavily accent shout from a familiar Norwegian. From above where he he was, the sight of an orange stingray flying downwards in a very swift spiral caught the battle master Beedrill by surprise. With a forceful ramming, the might hornet was slammed to the dirt below with great force.

<What was that?> questioned one of the onlooker bees, unaware of Khaoth’s dangerous plan.

With several twitches, the Beedrill’s still intact pierce hand latched itself into the ground, and slowly it pulled itself out of the dirt, its body trembling from the pain he felt, mostly from the ambush factor of the attack. <Who let you intervene?> Khaoth demanded, his eyes narrowing angily on the interloper, <why did the sentries let you pass?>

<Vell, dat nice guard, Imkiid, vas it?> she began to explain, <vell, I bribed he!> she stated honestly. <It was a bit pricy, but a Tunder Vave, a Brave Bird, and three Tunderbolt for entry ist good deal, da? He ist, how d’u say, reeling over the vealth?>

As her cartilaginous lips formed a somewhat sly smile, Khaoth growled, <You smell of venom and reek of thunder. I have just the right weapon for you,> he smirked.

With little more what seemed to be a thought, a pulse of carnation colored energy surrounded his unbroken poker. From the perspective of a human, his appearance of ‘badass’ was lost to the sight of neon pink. Looks, however, were often deceiving.

With a loud shriek of pain, Belvindar fell backwards, plopping to the ground below, her head reeling in pain as she flopped about like the fish she was. Her mind began to laze.

‘Da, dis ist going bad!’ the stingray thought as her wings struggled to bring her upwards and back into her hover. ‘Vait.... I know vhat to do!’ Swiftly, she slammed her eyes shut, and her thoughts began to wander far from her, darting about the forest, finding its target.

<Back for more?> questioned Khaoth with fading patience, <You seem to enjoy the thought of death at such a young age.>

With a focus, her orange body began to pulse with a blue streak of thunder, which quickly found its way to the flying menace. In a jolt, he felt his body begin to go limp and stiff. <What... what is this ****?>

<Ha!> the enraged hornet managed through the electrical numbing, <are you that interested in temporary death postponement?> it asked with a vigorous thrill of the moment as insectuous adrenaline coursed its veins, <Are you so afraid of death?>

The manta shook her head swiftly as she responded. <No! I vish to die vhile making amends,> she hissed, her sharp mind easily detecting the slight mix of both fear and being flabbergasted in the bee’s subtle head movements and its red blinking eyes. Knowing this, the sea creature continued, <I am past mine priime. I haf nothink to live for. You con kill me if you vish! But I vill protect dese innocent youths in da process. Jou may not be humon, and day not my biological loved vuns,> she explained, tears began to form at her salty, yet beady black eyes, <however, I will die smilink! Sow, bring iit!>

With that, she sprung into action with adrenaline. With a swoop up towards the sky, she nailed the bee with as much power as her body could muster. Verick’s face tilted as he saw the tears trickle from his creature’s face. “She’s tinkink of her childron a-gain... poor voman. I feel baad for her.”

As the bee reeled from the sudden strike, his arm stingers went out in front, an energy forming. In a swift slash, he brought his might upon the manta. She screamed as she fell from the might and mystical energy that it held.

<Bel!> shouted Purizz, a jolt of energy catching with her as she heard her elderly friend scream.

<Don’t you dare!> yelled one of the drones of nondescript unimportance, <or else...> This quickly silenced the gator as she could only watch helplessly as the stingray took beating after beating from psychopathic slashes.

<I’d ask you for any last requests,> Khaoth began with a sly, yet calm sense of pure enjoyment as he lifted his claws again. The manta was prostrate on the ground, or as prostrate as something of her species could be. She was slipping out of consciousness, and her mind was reeling from the power of these slashes, <however... I’m not flawed with hubris.>

<Z-zat’s okay,> the mantaray said as she looked upwards at the warrior hornet, <I made my reqvest durink da battal! I saat audiance vith da qveen!> She smiled as her wing flaps pushed against the ground to bring her upwards, her body trembling from agony.

This trembling, however, could not compare to the trembling that the war captain was now feeling deep within his exoskeleton, <You...> he caught himself, <wait, that’s impossible! That ugly ***** doesn’t even speak to lowly creatures!>

As he finished speaking his spite, the warrior felt his head wrack with an immense tug. Though his brain was not large, much in spite of his intellect, it felt as though there was a precise ripping, tearing each and every smatter of fiber from the delicately balanced location that nature decided would best be fitting.

Minutes passed, and the pain began to subside slowly for no true tearing occurred. Yet, from above the trees, in floated lazily what seemed to be the strangest insect ever seen. Its form was so strange that even though she exuded an aura that almost demanded you to respect, one was very likely to stare simply due to the immensely deformed look this creature possessed.

Floating in was perhaps the strangest bee Phillip had ever seen. Her head was much like the Beedrills around him, except that while still yellow with red eyes, there was an immense brain barely held in place by the meager exoskeleton it was meant to be held by.

This led his gaze to the middle segment, something that was barely there, with wings probably no bigger than his pinky’s fingernail. Her segmented legs did not have drills that scared him so much, but the thorax more than made up for this... all three of them!

Obese thoraxes, striped pitch black and a bright yellow, seem loaded with what appeared to be stingers bigger than his longest finger. Their positioning at its back were symmetrical, with one down in the center, and the others at precise angles veering left and right from there. Though they swayed slightly, something bound them to remain attached, in spite of how all in all, this creature defied more than half of the laws of physics by even surviving in one whole piece.

<Queen Stetellae!> shouted one of the many bees present. In lightning fast unison, he and every other bee not currently knocked about or injured knelt as best they could upon the ground, leaving one needled arm up to maintain a kneeling composure of respect.

“KNEEL!” Rajoxx instantly yelled from his kneeling position to which the fearful human boys instantly obeyed.

“Dah, ovf course!”

Of the Pokemon, the Ratatta was on his side in injury, the Mantraray was on the brink of death, and the Clefairy was sleeping in the face of a buzzing Armageddon. The two capable Pokemon, Purizz and the unnamed Spinirak were not kneeling for their own personal reasons. Purizz was trembling in fear, though she kept it as slight as possible, while Spinirak was horny... again!

<Wowza!> he began, jumping up and down slightly, <what a hot momma. She has three holes and lotsa meat. I never done a woman bigger than me before,> he began, blissfully unafraid, <wanna give a go? I promise I won’t eat you... right away.>

The queen’s eyes placed themselves upon the spider with passing interest, <You’re not too amusing, yet I know well that you are the reason this problem began,> she blinked as she floated there and continued slowly, <yet I see no reason to kill you. You are a simple creature who is highly bound by the natural cycle. I pity you for it!>

The spider was dumbfounded, <Huh?>

Stetellae simply shook her head, as she gazed at the fallen commander. His head was still wracked with psychic pain, <I had suspected your treason for a while. I’ll admit now, Khaoth, that I never did like you.>

Khaoth, his head jolting in every direction, turned his eyes to his queen, <Oh? You don’t know ****!>

The queen shook her head, <when I was a little boy, I didn’t care too much, yet you mistreated my mother and harassed her often. I was surprised when fate chose me to ascend to the throne. I learned a lot by becoming a woman,> the queen explained, <there’s a lot we do for you men that you will never understand. The pains and labor we go through are far beyond your understanding,> her gaze swiftly turned to the gator, who had long since kneeled, <am I right?>

The gator nodded, <men... uh, men have no clue!> Fear was evident in her cracking, nervous voice.

<Don’t play that game!> hissed a misogynist purple rodent, <you think men have it easy putting up with you? You don’t go out there and risk death every day the way a real man does!>

<Dar’kankst,> the queen said slowly, <though I promised not to harm anyone else, I will pass a burden for a short time.>

With that, the bee’s eye shut and her brain began to pulsate, stretching her already enclosed exo-skull even further for a brief moment. Then, it subsided, and the queen’s movements somehow felt less burdened. The rat on the other hand felt heavily bogged down. <Rotten qweanbee *****!> he snarled slowly, <what have you done to me?>

Some eyes from the soldier bees turned angrily to the rat, but the queen was calm, <I have used one of my talents. Humans call it... Skill Swap, so I believe. It will be temporary for both of us, unfortunately, but you will feel my sluggish burden for a little while, at least.>

<You *****!> the rat snarled again as he slumped back down.

<Indeed...> the queen said not giving a pun intended rat’s *** about the situation, <now, where is the captured one?>

<The human has it enslaved!> shouted one of the loyal bees with disgust dripping in every word.

“R-rrelease the W-wee-weEEdul! Wee-eedw-weeddel,” Rajoxx tried to demand, though his grasp on the language held him back.

In spite of the difficulty of the position he was in, Phil obliged, “Here it is,” he said swiftly as the horned worm with red honker once again saw the light of dusk.

The weedle’s eyes blinked to the change as a soft summer wind caressed her. She felt so alone and worthless, even as brethren stood before her. These warriors, worthy of growing up and not subjected to ever be dinner of a lesser creature made her feel so weak and unworthy. Compounding the issue to make it worse, the queen stood before her. She wanted to hide, perhaps just grow into her cocoon and hide for eternity until the shell hulls her out and she disintegrates.

All she could do was set her small tail in front of her eyes, even as the queen floated to face her, letting beady eyes meet giant red ones. <uhhh...>

<Hello young one,> the queen began calmly, <I run a big hive so I’m afraid your name is lost amongst the many, so would you mind sharing it?>

<I-I... Iranqa, y-your majesty...> she replied with a feeling of defeat.

<I can tell that you feel very sad, yet you have a lot to live for,> the queen explained as her huge exoskeletal cranium pulsated heavily, <your future is bright. It is a shame that you will be honoring this human with your presence instead.>

<Relax, sweetheart,> the bee replied, <the spider shouldn’t give you any trouble. I think your new friends will ensure it.>

The spider giggled, <no trouble at all. Only sex and dinner. My dinner!>

Purizz sighed and stood up, her small blue legs bringing her upon the weedle. Her confidence began to increase as she felt almost like a big sister, <Trust me. I know what it’s like to be a woman in a man’s world.>

<Liar!> hissed the rat through still stuck in his temporary truant existence, <you do not know how to live. Your job is to lay eggs and make dinner!> he stated slowly yet sternly, <well, not in that order.>

<Just ignore him,> the gator explained, <he’ll leave you alone if you leave him alone...> her attention returned to the queen, <can you help Belvindar?> she asked with concern, eyeing the orange stingray whose only movement was now heavy breathing <she’s hurt!>

The queen shook her head, <she wanted this death...> she began, as many eyes beedrill and non-beedrill (though none of human) alike went wide. <fortunately, fate seems to want to hold onto her for some time longer. This is not her end yet!>

Purizz sighed relief. Her only true friend here was still her. A knot formed in her stomach though at the greedy thought of holding the elderly mantra here only to keep her own sanity intact was a bit sickening. <So... is everything over?>

The queen nodded, <It is, I will grab any of my injured, and I wish you wayfarers the best of luck. Though if the spider tries to take any of my subjects again... will you miss him?>

From the conscious females, there was a unanimous no!

With that, the Qweanbees’ mind began to pulse as she began to pull on the fallen bees of Imkiid and Khaoth, <Imkiid here will be fine...> she stated pleasantly, though it swiftly turned dark, <but you Khaoth... you’re lucky I even let you live the way you only wish to make my life miserable.>

With that, her eyes gave a glow as she eyed her subjects. Swiftly, they bolted up and began to fly away, scattering in all directions with a thunderous melody of buzzing. After about a minute of the swarm’s momentum music, the bugs were gone... the Beedrill fiasco was finally over.

Verick Juld didn’t heed Phil any mind, as his was on the bruised, lacerated body of an old friend. As far as he knew, this friend was had an age long surpassing his fifteen years of life. He was glad she was still alive, and was extremely grateful to the fact that he hadn’t been stung. “Vhat a day...”

Distance was still far to the next civilization.

Sike Saner

2nd January 2008, 12:25 PM

Loved the "Previously..." part before the chapter, first of all. XD Also great was what Stetellae did to Dar'kankst--that's what he gets for belittling the burdens of womanhood! XP

Also, Qweanbee's a pretty damned cool Pokémon. o.o

And again, the bees all have really cool names. ^^

It was apparent that this guy sucked at life! Of course, with the piercing of a million arrows, he began to suck at dying as well.

XD

They had been chatting about boring things now. None of what they said could have possibly been worth its potential as a cracked joke or a vaguely alluding plot point ere now.

XD

<You useless *****,> he snarled, as he swooped down, picking up the piece of fallen stinger with one of his feet. <I’ll kill you!> At that, he swing wildly, yet with the skill and calculation of a veteran of his profession.

<Whoa!> shouted the rat in amazement at the spectacle he saw. It was pretty intense, the sight of this bee having just lost an arm simply pick it up and attempt to beat the enemy up with it. What made it even more incredible was that the bee was using his right leg to do so.

That is an interesting technique Khaoth's using there...

<Vell, dat nice guard, Imkiid, vas it?> she began to explain, <vell, I bribed he!> she stated honestly. <It was a bit pricy, but a Tunder Vave, a Brave Bird, and three Tunderbolt for entry ist good deal, da? He ist, how d’u say, reeling over the vealth?>

Nice one. XD

<Don’t you dare!> yelled one of the drones of nondescript unimportance

"Drones of nondescript unimportance"... XD

The two capable Pokemon, Purizz and the unnamed Spinirak were not kneeling for their own personal reasons. Purizz was trembling in fear, though she kept it as slight as possible, while Spinirak was horny... again!

<Wowza!> he began, jumping up and down slightly, <what a hot momma. She has three holes and lotsa meat. I never done a woman bigger than me before,> he began, blissfully unafraid, <wanna give a go? I promise I won’t eat you... right away.>

Ah, that naughty-minded Spinarak... XD

<Dar’kankst,> the queen said slowly, <though I promised not to harm anyone else, I will pass a burden for a short time.>

With that, the bee’s eye shut and her brain began to pulsate, stretching her already enclosed exo-skull even further for a brief moment. Then, it subsided, and the queen’s movements somehow felt less burdened. The rat on the other hand felt heavily bogged down. <Rotten qweanbee *****!> he snarled slowly, <what have you done to me?>

Some eyes from the soldier bees turned angrily to the rat, but the queen was calm, <I have used one of my talents. Humans call it... Skill Swap, so I believe. It will be temporary for both of us, unfortunately, but you will feel my sluggish burden for a little while, at least.>

Again, that was great. :D

<Indeed...> the queen said not giving a pun intended rat’s *** about the situation

XD

“Here it is,” he said swiftly as the horned worm with red honker once again saw the light of dusk.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I love Weedle being described as having a "red honker". XD

Your job is to lay eggs and make dinner!> he stated slowly yet sternly, <well, not in that order.>

He said something that made me want to kick him and then immediately followed it with something that made me laugh. XD

Though if the spider tries to take any of my subjects again... will you miss him?>

From the conscious females, there was a unanimous no!

XDDDD

DarkPersian479

3rd January 2008, 7:09 AM

catching the underside of the hornet’s thorax with her razor teeth

she did not catch the needled arm that jabbed her in the side.

her claws ready to rend his head off.

With a forceful ramming, the mighty hornet was slammed to the dirt below with great force.

Her only true friend here was still here.

“I need sleep and a strong, preferably alcoholic drink.”

Dang, I almost forgot about this one, having been un-updated (probably not a word) for so long. Ah, but then there's the unique language style and sense of humor.

THE QUEEN COMETH! And someone (Khaoth) has been a bad insect, trying to take over the colony. Fortunately, she shows up and spares everyone's life! Not to mention gives a nice little pep talk on how hard it is to be a woman. But somehow I doubt that registered with the sexist Rattata or the horny Spinarak. Oh, well...

It was apparent that this guy sucked at life! Of course, with the piercing of a million arrows, he began to suck at dying as well.
LOL! Perfectly describes some of the members on this forum, sadly enough:/ Thouh, most of them aren't in fanfiction...

<Vell, dat nice guard, Imkiid, vas it?> she began to explain, <vell, I bribed he!> she stated honestly. <It was a bit pricy, but a Tunder Vave, a Brave Bird, and three Tunderbolt for entry ist good deal, da? He ist, how d’u say, reeling over the vealth?>
Hey, sounds like a good (and convincing) deal to me!

<Wowza!> he began, jumping up and down slightly, <what a hot momma. She has three holes and lotsa meat. I never done a woman bigger than me before,> he began, blissfully unafraid, <wanna give a go? I promise I won’t eat you... right away.>
For some insects, old habits die hard, don't they?

Air Dragon

3rd January 2008, 11:02 AM

This was awesome! it did take a little while for my mind to catch up with what's going on, due to time gap in chapter release... but it was a sweet chapter anyways!

DarkPersian's got your back as far as the grammar is concerned and as all the funny bits have been listed out for you, i guess repeating it would be a pain.

All i'll say here is... bloody awesome chapter and a happy new year!

L@er!

Dilasc

1st April 2008, 9:30 PM

It's been 3 months, but I regret to inform you that this story shall be discontinued... April Fools!

In any case, a small sneak peak to the future of DtD.

There is a lie growing on the wind of the high heavens, and death, it was seem, is a motivating lie… what happens when the person figures out this lie and their reason and purpose are lost. Is the thrill of the life enough to keep it going?

A girl with a disability of sorts proves that you can be an arm ahead of the competition, while still being a bit unhanded.

One dreamer will learn that it is impossible to escape their destiny even with an eternity to want it to change.

A mighty endless expanse, a dream of deviant seekers, there is more to this world that seems most unnatural to the existence of this utopia.

To define chaos is not to define ‘evil,’ for order and evil can go hand in hand, and chaos ekes more balance to the universe than most creatures realize.

So... has that motivated more people to read? Unlike the start, this is real, and should I ever find the time to crunch and remotivate myself, you can guaruntee that I will.
Until then... more review...ers?

Dilasc

30th May 2008, 8:57 PM

A new chapter is upon us right now.

Other than the fact that college and rehearsals make this one busy actor in training, I will be posting yet another chapter at long last. Props to my readers but I don’t got time for specific comments. WARNING, this chapter contains the start of a potentially major plot twist! Dare to read on at your own risk.

Dust to Deceit

‘Where most fear death... I fear life. Death is easy and lazy, but to live, you must prepare to deal with hardships, loss, taxes, pain and a plethora of troubles even worse, none of which are a quick painless death. For this reason, I do not fear death. That’d be useless!’
-Source Unknown

Chapter 25: At War Within Iranqa

Phillip Molson yawned with boredom. The sky had long since darkened, and the symphony of insect and nightly bird chirps rang softly through his ears. His Pokemon, after an ‘exciting’ day of hornet mayhem, were tucked away in their magical spheres, the security away from the real and cruel world. Yet a human knows no luxury, for he is vulnerable without his technology or his charismatic ability to command lesser creatures. It was a strange feeling, to be a one of a kind creature amongst a world of less ambitious life forms. Not that either of the two humans were thinking such deep and inquisitive thoughts at this very moment.

The Norseman, Verick Tylibven, had his head star-wards with a handheld telescope in his grip. As he had told Phillip, he stored the contraption in a Pokeball without any problem at all. Aside for a few clouds, the night was crisp and clear enough to drown in its hazy twinkle of natural far-off light. The summer’s haze and growth of pollution wasn’t exactly aiding in the sight of this beauty, but the sky was clear enough to see copious twinkles of the stars slowly fading into view.

Phillip sighed with a sense of serenity. Today had been quite a day and his sister’s honor by journey would be fulfilled... wouldn’t it? Phil doubted he could fill her shoes or even compare to her greatness as a person. It wasn’t like he hated her, but he just felt so inferior. With a shake of his head, he let the thought slide away and reached for a Pokeball at his side.

“This should be Weedle’s...” he said aloud to himself as he pressed the button in the middle. His guess was not correct and out popped the Totodile Purizz, “oops!”

The gator glanced about, her vision not as keen to the dark as it was to the day. It was stronger than a human’s eyes but still not too good as night vision, <When humans say they’re ‘totally tripping balls’> the gator began, <they must have been caught inside one of those things.>

As the gator tried to regain her composure, the human tried again and unleashed the contents of another ball. This time, his guess was correct and out popped the horned yellow worm. Her eyes glanced about the nightly local as her large round nose sought to make sense of the awkward situation. <Still here...> she stated with a feel of defeat.

Phillip could sense a slight bit of discomfort from the small worm as he leaned down from his sitting position to parley with it, “Hello,” was his only word, causing the insect’s eyes to widen with fear. Following a short pause, the boy continued, “I know you’re probably terrified and you might want to find freedom to go home,” he began, quickly gathering the small beast’s attention.

<Home...> the beast muttered in her native tongue. The words bounced about her spherical head for a few seconds, the term at this time feeling very... empty. Where was home now? Wasn’t home just a hive where her destiny was preset in stone? Wasn’t it a very short stone that, when he end was reached, would simply say to return to the start and repeat endlessly until death? Wasn’t home the place where Khaoth was? <Home...> she murmured again as she trembled to the word. Today had placed the weight of the world on her, and inside her, and it took the shape of a horny spider and three balls. <There’s nothing left...>

She paused, her eyes towards the dirt. Pride prevailed for now, for she wouldn’t dare let this human see her weaknesses. In a slight shock, a wet claw gripped her shoulder. Turning around, it was Purizz, a look of attempted understanding on her face. <Talk to me, Iranqa,> was her statement.

<Why am I here?> was the meek question that the lady worm asked with her head still looped downwards.

<Why are any of us here?> the gator asked. She spoke again with deep thought, <you’re here because you were caught by Philip.>

<Who?>

The gator put her claw to the lengthy snout she called a chin, <that human who you fear so much. His name is Philip, just like how mine is Purizz.>

The horned insect nodded before she resumed her lamenting, <I don’t belong here...>

<Are you sure?> the gator asked as she tilted her head, <somehow I think you’re not sure that you really want to leave.>

<I... I’m scared to go back out there,> the mellow yellow one replied with a shudder, <there are...> she stammered, attempting to get the words to flow. All she could do was pretend to hold back her tears as she did, <I’m weak and disposable!>

The wet blooded reptile’s head went back with shock as the red fins along her back bristled with a sense of guilt. Somehow a sense of superiority felt wrong to the watery gator, but the idea of being a role model that could hold great sway... that may have been a different story, <don’t think such things! You are young still and can grow to be quite powerful, I am certain. You are only trash if you think you are.>

<I...> the meek worm thought, <I’d become like... like them, like Khaoth!> She shuddered audibly. Within the hive, Khaoth was feared, and with good reason. He was practically a bully, but unlike most bullies who’d merely threaten, he would act upon his harsh actions. Some of the wiser of the hive believed that Khaoth was insecure and he himself so afraid that he’d rather have others be too scared to notice his fear. As such, he’d shroud it beneath his massive strength and a false sense of proud valor that wasn’t afraid to kill kin if needed.

Iranqa didn’t believe this ideal in its entirety. Khaoth was dreadful, and had often been there to threaten young and impressionable Weedles to be loyal or die, and that weaklings deserved their fates... perhaps that was why she was cast out as she was. Millions of questions and fears arose all at once. Where would she go now? The wilds were far too terrifying when an outcast was easily any predator’s next meal. Should she remain amongst this... human? He wasn’t all that cruel, or so he seemed, and his mannerism seemed decent enough, but then there was that sphere... the entrance to purgatory.

All she could describe that expanse as was emptiness; emptiness surrounded by white in all six directions to the point she didn’t even know what the ground beneath her was actually made of. Even its temperature didn’t seem to exist, as though it simply was just... there, and no feeling within the white nothingness was even meant to be there to begin with.

Her eyes snapped open, and her eyes traveled skyward. The human’s voice was drowned out by her lostness within the twinkling eternity. <They sure are pretty,> she trailed.

The gator nodded as one of her claws went to scrape at one of her teeth, <the night sky on a nice clear day can bring peace to even the savages of this land... perhaps we gaze the stars because we all wonder what they’re like. Deep down, we want to escape this dominion and float free unweighted from all of life’s problems.>

The worm nodded, <yes...> she replied, even though she had no idea what most of those words were anyway. <Purnit...> she began.

<It’s Purizz,> the blue one corrected, before taking a deep and breathy sigh, <what is it?>

<Why, well...> began Iranqa with uncertainty, <uh, why did you choose to join this... human?> the words struggled to escape her lips. Somehow, it felt wrong to ask the question, but at the same time, she simply had to know what it was that drew their kin to follow the orders of these supposedly powerless beings. <Why?>

<Well...> Purizz began, <because I was asked to. My cave was approached by a man and a young girl pleading for one of my kind,> she explained, <not that this was so strange. Nearly every year I could remember, this man would ask for one of us, claiming that some young human would teach us to be strong...> she hesitated, <yet this time, he pleaded, as did the girl. They both sounded as though they had something grave, yet something that they wished they didn’t have to do. I accepted though, wishing to go see the world... so here I am, not sure why. I’d have honestly wanted to go with the girl who had pleaded but...> the recollection felt somewhat guilty.

<Why didn’t you? Shouldn’t you have some say?> Iranqa asked, wondering still why humans are so demanding.

<Well, the plan...> she paused, blinked her eyes, and shook her head. That wasn’t meant to be known, <it failed!> she snapped, almost hissing the words through her sharp fangs unintentionally, <she died and so her brother took over.>

<Oh...> she bowed her head as it looped downwards from her thinly body. Death was always painful to talk about, yet it seemed to be the living who had to suffer the dead. Those who knew eternal peace and rest. Surely they were the luckiest ones aliv... no, they weren’t, but that was why they were so lucky.

<You okay?> the gator asked, forcing some emotional pain into her words.

The Weedle nodded, <I’ve come to a choice,> she declared in a soft yet commanding manner, <I will stay.>

The Totodile nodded, <I think I will enjoy your company. To be honest, it’s nice to have another woman around.> As the young insect looked at her quizzically, the gator chuckled, <don’t worry about that annoying spider. I will personally guarantee he never violates you again... You have my promise!>

The worm shuddered slightly, on the verge of yet another emotional burst, this time a bit more on a happier level, <thank you!> was all she managed to get out.

The gator nodded, ‘I know she can’t tell Phillip, but I won’t take any chances. As far as everyone needs to know, Sarah Molson is dead!’ Then she eyed the worm and smiled. She was like a younger sister that could give her responsibility and cure some boredom. Things, in turn, were looking up.

All this time, Phillip watched them interact. His eyes not gazing at the rest of the galaxy the way his Norse friend’s was while his hands idly gripped nearby blades of grass and started ripping them out of the dirt, and tore their green stalks to even tinier pieces. The sticky liquid within their cell walls coated his hands as he tapped his fingers together to rub it into a small ball of sap and the dust and dirt that had coated his hands. These balls were extremely squishy, and according to most peers, this was a disgusting habit.

With limited interest, he also watched the Pokemon as they chattered away. They seemed like such simple creatures with antics that seemed very peculiar. As the horned bug returned to his side, he smiled. “Are you staying?” he asked.

The bug shut its eyes and twitched its giant nose. Its head nodded slightly, and then it plopped downwards, the day being beyond exhausting.

“I’m glad to have you,” he replied with a smile as he pet the creature, “thank you.”

Purizz smiled. Phil wasn’t such a bad guy... really, he wasn’t. It just seemed that when he got angry, he raged and vented and had a tantrum like there was no tomorrow. Yet, when tomorrow came, you only had to wonder if he wanted to continue his emotional thrashings and hurtful ways. It almost seemed as though he may have, dare it be said, enjoyed suffering.

If anything, his sister’s death gave him purpose... ‘and so long as that is what he believes, he will continue to grow.’

At the other edge of the forest, a teenager with lavender hair took a breath of relief. He made it! The town of Hallsburg was here. A cyclopean ear of corn sat ion his shoulder as it created a slight illumination for his journey. He smiled at his quarry for the day: a Fudgie and a Houndour to go with his Pidgey and Corvolden. That wasn’t to mention that he had met the most intriguingly sexy girl he had ever met. Tina, if he recalled right, was her name, and even with grime and sludge and something making her whine like mad, she seemed far too nice.

Come to think of it, the sewers reeked of something unworldly, and it wasn’t even an odor. It was as though there was something that Dame could only describe as evil or even chaotic. It almost seemed like it was making everyone act creepy. Even he wasn’t THAT creepy towards women.

“She’ll be fine,” he said aloud, as he looked at the vegetable beast on his shoulder, “we’re going to make it to the league and continue our path after we make a this stop here in Hallsburg.”

The corn thing shrugged its leafy arms. Nifilloom didn’t even know what this human was talking about, and was starting to tire out. All he wanted now was to find a nice outlet to plug into and get a recharge. Maybe the humans would love the popcorn he could create when he did this. Whatever the case, civilization was so close he could taste the electricity coursing through the powerlines! He loved it!

“All we have to do is find Professor Brenetmos and... some girl...” he paused, as he recalled her name “I feel like I’ve heard her name mentioned earlier... as in today!” with this thought on his brain, he walked onward.

Yet as humans and simple creatures squabbled, a pair of eyes surrounded some bright billowy clouds, the night sky giving them their midnight purple shade, <That boy...> it stated, seeing him several hundreds of feet below, <he seems... different.>

With little else to do, the windmill-faced demon shrugged nonexistent shoulders and scoured the midnight sky for its next meal. The pink haired boy was interesting, to say the least. Suffice to say, Vacuumoni wouldn’t need to watch him too closely. The wind would tell all. Their whispers spoke... of destiny!

Sike Saner

8th June 2008, 12:07 AM

This... "plan" of which Purizz spoke intrigues the heck out of me... o.o

And dangit, I want a Corvolden. Mmm, popcorn. ^^ Although... wait. The popcorn's not... a waste product of some kind, is it? o_o;

Oh, and...

Today had placed the weight of the world on her, and inside her, and it took the shape of a horny spider and three balls.

That made me laugh. XD

Diddy

10th June 2008, 12:58 AM

Ah, a fellow reviewer. You know the process, so I’ll get on with it.

bathing the ground in warm, fresh hemoglobin.

Should be haemoglobin, haem is the iron (like haematite (iron ore)) and the haem can only carry one oxygen (cause there’s four in each red blood cell) around the body. Perhaps you could use a better word, I just don’t think it should be used there, sorry for the biology lesson. There’s something about that which says, I learnt this word recently, its in conjunction with blood so I’ll use it.

Even the stars looked bleak, and a bright, sickly green as well.

I reckon this line could be rephrased better, ‘Even the stars looked bleak, glowing a sickly green.’ But how can shiny green be bleak?

The vision of raining blood haunted his eyes

Are you a fan of Slayer perchance?

It was a pretty good intro however, very gripping and climatic.

and like the revenge that it was, it was a dish best served at absolute zero tolerance.

Great line.

Oookay, the crazy cult people are rather weird, but it’s always cool to have crazy people in a fic, I kinda like that guy.

For now, he’d wait, for he loved chocolate, and anything better, had to be worth the time.

What’s this about chocolate? I don’t know why this was there.

I would bet my life and football watching on that,” that was big. Richard, like most adult men, was enamored with the sport of football. “And that is not a joke either.”

Oh, damn. You know he’s serious when he throws football into the mix. And your American, or use an American spell checker, in Britain, enamoured has a ‘u’ in there. I’ve seen a few throughout.

A murderer deserves no right to life. After all, life was a privilege, and a blessing. But taking the life of another was plain wrong. All it was, was life for life. Wasn’t that a fair trade?

It depends on your idea of murderer; I’ll use American law terminology for you. A guy finds his wife cheating on him with his best friend; guy loses it and grabs a gun from his bedside cabinet. He threatens his wife and friend with the gun, but the friend calms him and gets him to put the gun down. The guy however is still very angry and pushes him away, the friend trips over the wife’s discarded clothes and smashes his head on the bedside cabinet, right on the corner as well. He falls dead almost instantly.

Does this man deserve death? He is a murderer in the eyes of the law. He intended to kill the friend, as shown by his grabbing for the gun and the friend ended up dead by his actions. Does this man’s life play forfeit because of his emotion?

But I suppose this is Phil’s misguided, young mind so I’ll let it slide, but I liked my rant.

But such thought brought up he whole circular cycle of life

‘Such thoughts’ and ‘up the whole’

Women, were after all, efficient in the field of cooking

Wow, you’re pulling out all the moral stops. You’ve been very slightly racist and a bit sexist, brave.

creating a dusty cloud that oh so slightly blocked his vision with tan sand, though his pants and shoes were cakes with the tan colored sand.

You used ‘tan sand/tan coloured sand’ (same thing really) twice in quick succession, maybe get rid of the first one, ‘blocked his vision’ is pertinent enough. And even more Americanisation.

His eyes wandered ahead. The lush pine trees and ferns surrounded him with a sight of nature in its purest, and most serene form. Amongst them, flowers and plants of red and more splashed a nice blend of forest calm. Surely this was a place of peace, and its serenity would be not disturbed.

The scent of the forest was much invigorating as the chirping of birds and the noises of other animals also rang out in the forest’s natural symphony of life.

The contrast between his previous anger and the serenity of the forest was really nice here.

It did no scream

It did not scream.

It knew the ay home.

It knew the way home.

memories of hi sister.

memories of his sister

Though he never remembered exactly how he figured it out, he did well know that Sara was a bit of a, believe it or not, lesbian.

I don’t see why this was mentioned, it isn’t looked upon further so seems to be a needless random fact.

Phil would not let this freaky man kill her if

And it just ends there; the sentence is left hanging like a very unpopular person asking for a high five in a group of jocks.

forgive al that had happened.

Forgive all. Wow there are a fair few of these one-letter-missing mistakes.

the blue gator rescuing damsel in distress.

Rescuing the damsel.

covered in a crimson covering.

Repetition of words there.

“I want to fly like a Wingul,”

Wingull, double ‘l’ at the end.

H did have one hell of a day

He.

To throw, or not to throw? That was the question. A creature so brave as to take a swipe at him from nowhere

Two Shakespeare quotes in quick succession?

activated the device on accident

by accident, on accident sounds like a six year old is saying it.

her mind, no doubt, freer of worries.

Free of worries.

celebrating their annual Bondage week. “B, D, S, M!” yelled Jimmy

*raises eyebrow ever so slightly* What? And here’s me thinking that Jimmy is the only crazy one.

“Dear me!” came an effeminate voice, followed shortly by the presence of the woman who owned it.

I’m sure that women can’t have effeminate voices, as they are already women.

Granbull gives you Ving Attacks

Lol at red bull mick-take.

In an instance, the world went white!

It should be instant, an instance is a happening of sorts.

Ironic though how lemonade was good, but lemons were not.

Lemons rock. Don’t dis.

“Yes, I am far from Jhoto...” it paused to sigh, “and the sea as well.”

Its Johto people. I don’t know why that variant Jhoto is so used, ignorance I guess.

This was, of course, a common occurrence amongst women when with their friends.

Lol at large amounts of female bashing, and judging by the title of chapter 10, well you’ve all seen the honeymooners.

“I sure do!” Phil said with disdain. “This is the part where Dr. Choctopus infuses the Milk with Syrupy radiation!”

I played with you, pretty girl, and want to play with you some more...” he grinned, “preferably naked

“No, I don’t find skin removing too sexy, but the cloth upon the skin is a different story.”

After all, he had to listen to this jerk make sexual advances on his redemptive objective, and he was not going to let any harm come to her, whether it were physical, emotional, or anything else to be.

Even more, does he not stop?

I’m not going to lay down and submit to just anyone... that’s a woman’s job.

HAHAHAHAHA!!! Legend, freakin’ legend.

<Liar!> hissed the rat through still stuck in his temporary truant existence, <you do not know how to live. Your job is to lay eggs and make dinner!> he stated slowly yet sternly, <well, not in that order.>

I seriously love this guy.

Well well. I finally read this thang, not usual that I struggle to read but I do feel a bit sluggish today.

I also noticed a part in this the Moltres Registeel bit got awarded funniest moment at the fic awards well done for that.

I thoroughly enjoyed this; apart from the vast amount of spelling errors I found and stopped pointing out after about four pages on word. It had a great opening and impressed as it went on, the plot has expanded and the cast is one to behold. Plus it made me laugh, a lot, which is saying a lot because only two other fics have made me do that.

The characters were quite developed and rather odd. Super Angry Phil annoyed me a fair bit, just the explosions of hatred and emo-like angst sproutations were not enjoyed by this casual reader/reviewer. I did like his change later on and now quite enjoy his character.

Jimmy, the crazy psychopath turned normal person. Glad that happened by the way, odd Jimmy got real old real fast. I like how he turned protector for Gina, providing her with first a companion and second someone to get some screen time with.

The whole thing is educational, funny and fun to read.

If were to dole out some rather scrumptious savoury rice… I mean advice, it would be this, keep up the jokes, ALWAYS CHECK THE SPELLING and your grammar is great so keep that up as well.

Diddy: Welcome to the show. I’m curious to what chapter you’ve read up to, but I’m mostly more impressed that you were able to read oh so many chapters so quickly since you at least made it to the Registeel interlude. I almost shudder to go back and revamp earlier chapters. Many are over five years old and the nostalgia makes me hesitate at times. Pretty much from chapter eleven onwards, as well as every interlude and prologue, is of a more advanced quality of time.

Sike Saner: I’m a bit disappointed and worried. Disappointed in myself that there wasn’t much humor to find, and worried for your health. Posts shorter than a quarter the length of the chapter isn’t quite your style. As for the Corvolden question, if you look at its description carefully, you’d realize the corn kernels grow where corn kernels normally grow: in this case, this is both its face and body where its cyclopean eye resides. We will certainly see more of Dame to be sure. After all, starters need to be glorified... or something like that.

It’s time for another chapter, this time we return to the fate of ex-psycho Jimmy and Gina. Time does take a slight rewind so we can catch up. Remember folks, the awards are here. Did I ever mention that I CRAAAAVE attention?

Dust to Deceit

Rather than becoming worldly, I’d rather shape the world myself. That way I know what the world I make is like. In turn, this forces others to become new worldly, MY new worldly!
-Source Unknown

Chapter 26: Sour Happiness

The sky was splashed with the oranges and purples of a setting sun after its long day’s journey across the Earthly sky, much like it did every day. Its reddish embrace cooled the land as it began to sink so low that soon it would be lost to the blackness of night. A sight like this could be enjoyed by anyone: even an ex-psycho or a green haired bisexual, especially as the manhole lid slammed shut behind them.

“Yick!” Gina managed as she grabbed her lengthy hair. Being so green, she wasn’t sure that she’d even be able to see every last piece of sludge or grime that got caught within it. Sure, green hair was an advantage at times, but not on one’s way out of the sewers

“Whee!” Jimmy managed to say with a cheerful disposition, and he was certainly glad to be cheerful now. The sewers scared him as though evil eyes were waiting to grip him with the psychopathic behaviors he prete... whatever the case, he was free of that dank slime hole beneath the surface, “feeling better now, Gina?”

The girl nodded with a smile as she combed her hair thoroughly, “I’m feeling fine. Why?”

Jimmy paused for a second as he thought, “well, you were a bit...”

Gina glared at him, “Jimmy...” she began calmly, “I don’t want to alarm you, but it is the...” she paused, almost embarrassed to admit it, “let’s call it the *****ing hour.”

Jimmy faltered, “Huh?” he asked.

Gina’s stare turned blank as she eyed him yet again, “there’s two in a semicolon, and it dots off a question mark.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened with understanding as she spoke, “you actually mean a colon. A semicolon has a comma at the bottom.” Taking a brief pause, he perked up again, “and you call it the *****ing HOUR? If time flies at about an hour every few days, then yes, it’s an hour! WHEE!” He calmed down, realizing the privacy of the situation, “so, when did it start?”

“Last night a bit after you stopped pretending to be nuts.”

The psychotic Jimmy nodded. Even he knew that in spite of his acting insane, which certainly wasn’t an act at all in the least, that hell had no fury like a woman’s wrath... or was it a woman scorned? Regardless of which words were right, neither could measure to the monthly blood crazing event that brought about something even worse: mood swings. Then, the realization hit him, “I was not pretending!” he proclaimed defensively, “I went on a rampage and killed many innocents!”

Instead of trying to push the issue further, Jimmy backed down and instead turned to gaze about his surroundings. This was still that big city they entered yesterday, or rather, it was in the distance to say the least. Smaller houses and buildings lined the roadsides and less people were prevalent wandering about on their daily business. “The suburbs! “ he cheered in relief, “My brother’s girlfriend has a sister here somewhere in this area.”

Gina nodded absently, “That’s good,” she replied impatiently, “well...” she asked, waiting for the male to pay attention to her, “where is it?!” she demanded.

“Relax...” Jimmy pleaded, knowing full well the wrath of a ticking biological time bomb.

Gina took a deep breath as she glanced about. “I’d like to see if I can capture something new.” she stated plaintively. No doubt Phillip was far ahead of her... the amateur! He knew nothing much of Pokemon, and here she was, having watched as Brenetmos raised this Bulbasaur from an egg, carefully hatched to provide a decent starting option for a youth like herself.

It was embarrassing then to have been caught by Jimmy so easily and so off guard, yet it was embarrassing even now. Strangely, he seemed to speak to her as though he was following some sort of plan, after all, his tying of her arms was a gentle process, and he seemed to have packets of ketchup, useful for smearing about, as though to look like... “blood...” she stated to herself. That alone was more strange than his begs and pleas for her to scream extra loudly.

“What?” Jimmy asked with concern, before nodding and tilting his head to the side quickly with a dumbfounded look upon his face, “oh right, what you’ll be doing for the next few days.”

Gina shook her head, “No! Not that, it’s... n... nevermind,” she said with an exasperated sigh of relief, “can we just hunt for some Pokemon?”

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders as he glanced towards the orange horizon, “it’s getting late. Unless you know your way out of town... besides, didn’t that pink haired fruit basket case give you a Pokeball?”

Gina took a slight pause, brushing a small strand of her green hair away from her face, “oh yea!” she exclaimed with estroginally boosted enthusiam before quickly grabbing for the ball she figured was the new creature.

What popped out gave both trainers similar results, for different reasons. The creature was small, its body was pink and shaped like an egg, though the bottom half that swayed about looked almost like slightly poofy, yet frilled red pants. The strangest aspects of this creature though, were its pink curl atop its head that reminisced with how a prepubescent hooker would dress, if such young ladies, heaven forbid, actually exist, and the round white lump it seemed to carry in front of it.

“A Happini!” Jimmy exclaimed. His eyes were wide.

Gina grumbled, “so he thinks I’m some girly girl who wants a cute pink creature because its cute and pink,” she pouted, earning a slight smile from Jimmy, “what kind of fruitcake would WANT this thing.”

“I would!” Jimmy proclaimed, “WHEE!”

Gina grumbled in her hormonal, and unstable state of existence, “the closet is finally behind you!” she chided with spite, “I guess your girly voice and tendency to blurt out strange words means you’re as queer as could be. I should’ve guessed sooner!”

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, “if that’s what you want to believe, then fine, it’s out of the closet and into the championship,” he declared, even though there was never any closet that needed to be exited to begin with, “how much begging or trading must I do for this valuable creature?” he asked, already falling to his knees.

“Why?!” Gina asked incredulously.

“If you let this thing evolve, it’s unstoppable!” he used with as much enthusiasm as before, “no competitive battler is without a strategy to counteract the not so rare occurance that is Blissey! Now give it to me! I beg you...”

“No!” Gina replied forcefully, “if it’s as strong as you say...” she trailed, smirking as she spoke, almost nervously gripping a strand of her green hair before habitually twirling a few strands betwixt her fingers, “then perhaps I will raise it well.”

“Make sure you train it well. Ice Beam will work wonders!”

She looked at the small creature, who appeared to be glancing about the pavement trying to lift out a white colored rock from the ground. “Happini,” she said again, reaching for her Pokedex.

The small creature looked up at the human with grass colored hair. Shieev tilted her tiny head to the side as she asked herself the one question her childish mind could muster: who was this girl?

The green haired girl seemed kind enough, but her mood seemed to sour at the drop of a hat and then as another would hit the ground perhaps a second or two later, it would change again, seemingly to become even more sour. She figured she was her new trainer, but Shieev didn’t really want one. She wanted to play with small white pebbles on the side of the street and stick them in a pouch she was too young to fully develop yet. Maybe this human would let her do that as she wished...

Gina gripped her Pokeball and called the creature back to its container. In a flash of red, the egg beast was gone from the world until it was needed again, “strong, right?”

Jimmy nodded, “but not physically. It’s durability will be unmatchable if you train it right. That means no letting it in battles against brute physical combatants!” he lectured briefly, before trailing off ominously, “trust me on this...”

Gina shrugged her shoulders, as she looked about, “I wonder what’s in the area,” she asked aloud, her mind suddenly made patient for an unknown, though likely short period of time.

With a shrug, Jimmy followed the youthful green haired girl. After all, she was his ticket to ‘freedom,’ or so she believed. The boy caught himself from grimacing as he caught up to her. “Whee!” he bursted out for no reason other than to live up to his namesake, “there’s really not much catchies in the area!”

‘Catchies?’ the girl thought to herself. With a defeated sigh, she gave in, “Fine, let’s get to a Pokemon Center then.”

The streets about them were fairly empty, aside from a few nobodies walking the streets to prove that there were indeed humans existing in this section of town. None of them, though, seemed to heed the sewer scented travelers as anything out of the usual. While rare, it wasn’t unheard of for people to plunge into the underground to hunt for disgusting creatures that may very well round out some up-and-coming Pokemon master’s team.

It was at this point that the silent sound of inaudible footsteps along the cobblestone walkways brought the presence of a young girl to the sight of the two trainers. “Hey there!”

This caught Gina’s attention well enough. Turning her head, she found her eyes need to move downwards to find the girl who stood slightly shorter than her, and as Dame, the prodigal epitome of perversion, had claimed, Gina herself was small. Indeed, Gina was short, even if his definition was meant to placate a look upon other assets. The green haired child shuddered on the inside as she remembered the pervert and felt her body tense, but eased up soon enough as her eyes fell upon the girl who addressed her.

Gina’s hair was relatively normal compared to this girl’s. While there was a part that flowed to reach about shoulder’s length, there were parts that were braided into small poofs befitting of a poodle, seemingly three on each side of her head. This, however, wasn’t the strangest part about her hair: it was copper, and not by normal definitions. It was copper as though someone had taken the color copper from a box of crayons, which seemed to have an immense shine to it, and just left no strand of hair untouched. It was as though the hair itself were metal, and played mind tricks that would give it an actual glow.

Her attire was a simple blue t-shirt and jean shorts, neither of which looked too clean. According to Gina’s nasal cavity, the shiny haired girl’s odor was only slightly better than the two sewer survivors. “You smell like travelers,” she stated simply.

“Ooooh! Shiny hair!” Jimmy decided to intervene, “we’re lost too!” he stated, nodding in a silly manner, “care to direct us to the nearest Pokemon Center?”

The poodle haired girl shook her head, “No! I’m on my journey, and I want a battle!”

Gina shook her head, “My Pokemon are tired, could it wait until I see you again...” she trailed, leaving out the words ‘hopefully never’ as she did.

“No!” she almost pouted, “I’m dying for a fight!”

Jimmy’s eyes ran over the girl, “you seem familiar. Unless hair like that grows all over the place. Are you from... Lipi?”

The girl’s broccoli-like growths seemed to droop as she replied, “Maaaybe. I did get my first Pokemon there, and it’s itching for a fight!”

“I thought so... I forget your name though,” Jimmy replied with a frown, before a burst of energy suddenly coursed through you, “I’m Jimmy! WHEE!”

“I’m Kaylinn,” she replied simply, “as if I’d even need to guess your name. There was a Jimmy there last week, he received a Fiyrant, but left it...” she trailed, grinning widely, “he said he had some... PLANS!”

Though much to his relief, Gina saw it not, Jimmy began to sweat nervously, “Indeed, whoever that Jimmy was, he surely will return,” he replied, surprised with his lack of stammers, “if... if not, I will find him... his Pokemon will not be abandoned!”

The shiny girl shook her head and grinned, “I’m sure...”

Jimmy however, smiled widely as the perfect coverup came to mind, “in fact,” he began with enthusiasm and excitement, “we will head to Lipi to check on this Fiyrant and I will claim my... erm, HIS Fiyrant, if my relative doesn’t return to do so.”

Gina shrugged her shoulders, but her mind was deep at work, ‘he’s hiding something!’ she scowled deep within, ‘I WILL find out what.’

With a sense of mission behind his steps, he approached the short woman, and whispered in her ears, “change the subject!”

As he spoke, she glanced up at him, her mouth in a frown she hoped would be ‘cute’ and ‘knee weakening’ as her lower lip protruded forward. The effects on Jimmy, seemed to be satisfactory, “I’m having fun...” she whispered back, “I have an idea of what you’re about, and I don’t mean the ‘murders,’ either.”

The ex-psycho’s head backed away from her ear, and went towards his belt to find his Pokeballs, “Let’s battle!”

“You want at it?” Gina asked, almost nervous. Here she was with two Pokemon, one she’d never used before, and another she’s used only on a few wild beasts, and in one battle against a trainer.

She thought carefully enough. Bulbasaur was well bred by Brenetmos, possessing skills that most of its kind would need lots of growth to attain. Not that these moves were powerful, per say, but it was better than having nothing at all. “Fine,” the girl replied, “what do you want then?”

“Simple... how about two verse two?” the copper haired girl replied, as she reached for the Pokeball at her belt, “and because you’re so ‘weak,’ I’ll choose first!”

Gina nodded, ‘That won’t help me much, but I’ll take this ‘advantage,’ she figured.

“Liqwierd!” she shouted as the Pokeball flew to the air.

As it clinked against the ground, bright energy took shape to form this creature, this ‘Liqwierd,’ which was weird indeed. It’s appearance was that of a purple, almost amorphous elemental look, as though it was merely a violet silhouette of a ghost, with fingerless hands and a ‘tail’ of red scales that looked better fitting on a mermaid’s body. To top off its head was a mop of messy hair that would better fit a brunette, and for vision, it seemed to have a singular orange eye. All this was packed into a length of about seventeen inches at most, from what Jimmy could guess.

In spite of its shape, it seemed to hover about half an inch above the ground, ready to fight. It’s mouth opening, revealing no teeth, but still what seemed to be the mouth of a more biologically possible creature. It was ready to fight.

“Let’s go, Bulbasaur!” Gina replied with no hesitation. This beast was clearly made of water. She would sap it dry and claim victory this day.

As she finished her words, the seed-back dinosaur stood at the ready, the wounds of earlier somewhat restored. Those wounds, were few and far between, since it seemed to regain its breath from nearly suffocating on sewage, dirty water, and god-beasts knows what other sorts of filth as well.

Kertonmel's resident wacko is back, with Gina, *****ing hour mode! Nice interactions between the two, especially concerning the Happiny. Sometimes i got the impression that Jimmy thinks too much as compared to not at all... however reading it again, I wonder how his arguments made any sense to Gina...

There were some gramar mistakes here:

Gina shook her head, “No! Not that, it’s... n... never mind,”

she exclaimed with estrogenically boosted enthusiasm

strategy to counteract the not so rare occurence

“Whee!” he burst out for no reason other than to live up to his namesake

“I’m Kaylinn,” she replied simply, “as if I’d even need to guess your name. There was a Jimmy there last week, he received a Fiyrant, but left it...” she trailed, grinning widely, “he said he had some... PLANS!”

Plans? More like ISSUES...

Jimmy however, smiled widely as the perfect cover up came to mind,

Well, that's my review done with. Now if there was anything else... oh yeah, you double posted the chapter, you naughty guy.

OK, gotta go...

L@er!

Dilasc

16th September 2008, 3:51 AM

Okey dokey folks, the awards and the potential for victory makes me work a bit harder. You may see a chapter sooner than you'd think.

Before that, I ask you, the reviewers (all sub-twenty of you, though I beg for this number to increase) what you like, and dislike about this story, whether in writing style, plot, pace, grammatical aspects, ANYTHING! I'm on a limb here like a meager begger, a starving artist. You wouldn't want me, or more importantly, my story, dying of hunger...

In any case, this post makes a good chance for a bump that will surely go in vain, so here's a hint that you should think about within the context of this story: !!!esaeeeelP !em rof etoV

You may get more clues someday, so a pronunciation guide to help again with a new name or two.

Kaylinn - The pronunciation is fairly simple: Kay and Lyn, though a bit more emphasis of the short I in Linn.

Vacuumoni - Dunno if I've let this be known, but the emphasis is on the cuum of the word, and the oni part that follows is spoken relatively quickly by compare.

Sike Saner

18th September 2008, 12:27 AM

That was a fun chapter, I thought. :D Jimmy was great there, and I like how the matter of his "craziness" being just an act is starting to come into play here.

Awesome to see Liqweird make an appearance, too, and the possibility of seeing it in action in a future chapter is something I also consider awesome. ^^

Highlights:

“Yick!” Gina managed as she grabbed her lengthy hair. Being so green, she wasn’t sure that she’d even be able to see every last piece of sludge or grime that got caught within it. Sure, green hair was an advantage at times, but not on one’s way out of the sewers

XD Note to self: Don't dye your hair green prior to a trip into the sewers.

...

Addendum to previous note: Don't ever make a trip into the sewers. X3

“Whee!” Jimmy managed to say with a cheerful disposition, and he was certainly glad to be cheerful now.

Ah, there's nothing quite like a good old fashioned Jimmy-brand "Whee!" to make any given situation *insert arbitrarily-chosen number* times more awesome, I'd say. X3

The sewers scared him as though evil eyes were waiting to grip him with the psychopathic behaviors he prete... whatever the case, he was free of that dank slime hole beneath the surface

The psychotic Jimmy nodded. Even he knew that in spite of his acting insane, which certainly wasn’t an act at all in the least, that hell had no fury like a woman’s wrath... or was it a woman scorned?

I liked the way that the narration kept suggesting that Jimmy's "craziness" was just an act such as it did in those places, particularly due to the ways that it did so. XD

Gina’s stare turned blank as she eyed him yet again, “there’s two in a semicolon, and it dots off a question mark.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened with understanding as she spoke, “you actually mean a colon. A semicolon has a comma at the bottom.”

Two things amused me there: Gina's way of saying "period" without saying "period", and Jimmy taking the time to correct her on the subject of punctuation there. XD

Taking a brief pause, he perked up again, “and you call it the *****ing HOUR? If time flies at about an hour every few days, then yes, it’s an hour! WHEE!”

Again, a Jimmy-brand "Whee" seems to add a nice extra dash of awesomeness to things. X3

“Last night a bit after you stopped pretending to be nuts.”

The psychotic Jimmy nodded. Even he knew that in spite of his acting insane, which certainly wasn’t an act at all in the least, that hell had no fury like a woman’s wrath... or was it a woman scorned? Regardless of which words were right, neither could measure to the monthly blood crazing event that brought about something even worse: mood swings. Then, the realization hit him, “I was not pretending!” he proclaimed defensively, “I went on a rampage and killed many innocents!”

I love delayed reactions. XD And I love that he was actually trying to defend his character by claiming to have killed a bunch of innocent people. Awesome. X3

“A Happini!” Jimmy exclaimed. His eyes were wide.

Gina grumbled, “so he thinks I’m some girly girl who wants a cute pink creature because its cute and pink,” she pouted, earning a slight smile from Jimmy, “what kind of fruitcake would WANT this thing.”

“I would!” Jimmy proclaimed, “WHEE!”

I liked the "wants a cute pink creature because it's cute and pink" part, and I liked Jimmy's (wtf, I just typed Kimmy there O.o) response to her. XD

Shieev tilted her tiny head to the side as she asked herself the one question her childish mind could muster: who was this girl?

I like that Happiny's name. ^^

“Whee!” he bursted out for no reason other than to live up to his namesake,

XDDDD

“there’s really not much catchies in the area!”

‘Catchies?’ the girl thought to herself.

"Catchies"... XD Imagine if Pokémon had, in fact, been officially named that instead. XD

The streets about them were fairly empty, aside from a few nobodies walking the streets to prove that there were indeed humans existing in this section of town.

That amused me. XD

None of them, though, seemed to heed the sewer scented travelers as anything out of the usual.

The phrase "poodle haired wench" amuses me for some reason. It just does. XD

Zincspider

26th November 2008, 11:05 PM

Sorry this took me so long. It took me forever to find it... and then to relize it was in your sig.
EEP...
I read what I could right now, but I won't be albe to read all of them tonight.
What I did read was REALLY goood, and if I can, put me on the PM list.
I need to do some catching up,

harryheart

7th December 2008, 5:36 PM

WoW! This was a unique idea and a very descriptive and well written first chapter! I loved it, and the idea of a Pokemon murderer is rather shocking, I want to know more about that so I will continue to read this story for definite.

I'm not going to go into a full review as you already have written it but I will point out one mistake.

The only mistake I found was:

"And you I presume are Mitchell Parson.” Wilbur smiled, as he turned to face the Negro in question. smiled, “It is good to meet you.” he paused “Uh, hello?” he repeated again, vying for the boy’s attention.

The wrong smiled is in bold!

Overall this was a well written chapter with an interesting plot and characters. Superb!

Zebtrestalala

12th July 2009, 5:00 AM

Reading the first few chapters, I was really annoyed by Phil's angsty white boy attitude.
It just...ya know? It seemed a bit over the top, but then again my younger sister hasn't been killed.

EDIT: Also, it seemed a bit forced. Always death, satan, angst, never happy. Sorry, I tried writing a fanfic before, but none of my characters were as "emotionally unstable" as Phillip Molson. Seriously. Why didn't his parents go to a psychologist, that's not normal behavior for a teenager at all.

Sorry, ADD (and it being midnight) kept me from reading the rest of the chapters